World class friends
by Shinora1996
Summary: The final year at the Hetalia International School has started for the strangest but possibly closest bunch of students in years. After this year, their ways will part, perhaps even further than they had thought. How will they take that? High School AU. NedCan?, UsUK and many other couples. Human names used.
1. Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own the characters other than the parents and teachers. They belong to Hidekaz Himaruya.

~o~o~o~

Hey, everyone! I'm back again, this time with an AU-fiction. It's my first, so please be kind.

The main pairings in this will be Netherlands x Canada and America x Britain.

Human names are used.

The characters have an average age of 17/18. Some are slightly younger or older, depending on whether they have skipped or repeated a grade or not. These choices were based on their canon ages and whether or not they have siblings in the same class. 

I have given 'unnamed' characters their own human names. I'll usually make it clear in the story, but here's a quick summary:  
The Netherlands: Abel Diepeveen  
Belgium: Judithe Diepeveen (NOTE: The surname is the same as the Netherlands' to make it realistic in this AU. This is not the surname I originally intended for Belgium.)  
Luxembourg: León Diepeveen (Same goes for his surname)  
Ukraine: Yekaterina Braginskaya  
Denmark: Mathias Køhler  
Norway: Aleksander Bondevik  
Iceland: Lukas Bondevik  
Taiwan: Lin Wanmei

~o~o~

It had been five years.

Five years had the students of class 6A2 of the Hetalia International College spent together. This was to become their final year at the school. After this they'd all go their own ways, find their own universities to study at, and new friends. But for this upcoming year, they were still the so close A2 class. They had been like one big family in the past five years, all brothers and sisters. Friendships had been made, broken, and build up again stronger than ever. Relationships had started to establish, connecting some students even stronger than before.

But before the last year of hard work, studying and exams was to take its start, the class had a trip to Paris.

The students gathered in front of the school before the break of dawn, so they'd be in Paris before lunch.

"Ey, Roderich!" A loud albino shouted upon spotting his much more serious Austrian peer and his girlfriend.

"Gilbert, please refrain from shouting in the early morning." Roderich scolded, serious as always.

"Ah, don't be so stiff, Rode." Gilbert teased, mockingly hanging his arm around the other one's shoulder. "We're about to go on a trip, and you're not going to kill my excitement."

Elizabetha, Roderich's girlfriend, cracked her knuckles. "Gilbert. Hands off. He's mine. Or else I'll break some more than your excitement." She hissed.

The white-haired teenager instantly backed away, not wanting to get hit on the head too badly. Again. "Ah, have you seen my bro?" Gilbert asked, changing the topic and looking around.

"He's already with my stupid brother." Romano answered his question. "That stupid potato-eater." The eldest of the two Italian brothers hissed.

"Ooi! Romano!" They heard someone yell from a distance. Upon turning around, the group spotted Antonio. He had just been dropped off by his mother and was also ready to go. He casually hung his arm around Romano's shoulder. "Hello, _mi corazón_." He said in a softer tone, greeting his boyfriend with a quick peck on the cheek.

"Antonio, you tomato-bastard!" Romano shouted in embarrassment, as he was not yet used to being shown affection in public. Even though they had already been together for two years and a few months, Romano was still easily embarrassed. Even though it was fairly obvious they were together, he still tried very hard to prove the opposite. It wasn't uncommon for him to kick or punch Antonio. He had even nearly broken his nose once when he had come too close while they were in public. "Don't do that in front of everyone!" Romano sneered with a face as red as a tomato. "Save that for later."  
Elizabetha giggled, which remained unnoticed by either.

A small distance up ahead, the last two students were dropped off by their mother. "Alfred, no shouting while you're on your trip, okay? And be sure to behave yourself. French folks can be real asses."

The boy sighed and rolled his eyes. "Yes, mom."

"Good. Have fun, darling. And, Matthew. Be sure to stick to the group and don't let them lose sight of you. You tend to do that and you could get lost or something."

"Yes, mom."

"Okay then. Bye, sweethearts." The woman greeted her two sons before driving off.

Alfred rolled his eyes. His mother could be so overly concerned about everything. "Hey, everyone!" He loudly made everyone take notice of his arrival.

"Hey, Al!" Several of his classmates greeted.

"Yo, Abel!" Alfred greeted his Dutch classmate, giving him a hard yet friendly high-five.

"Hey, man. Hey Matt." Abel greeted back.

"Hi." Matthew nearly whispered.  
Right next to him, most of the few girls in his class were chatting and giggling about stuff that didn't interest him. With them was Abel's twin sister, Judithe. The girls seemed excited. For nearly everyone, it was the first time to see their classmates in other clothes than their usual school uniform. Instead of the usual dress shirt and tie and what not, the girls all had very different senses of style. Judithe was dressed in a light turquoise summer dress, while Elizabetha had a tomboyish style. A simple t-shirt that she also would have worn if she were a boy and simple jeans. She did have an orange flower in her hair that showed her feminine side.

The same went for the guys. Usually, everyone was dressed in the same boring uniform so everyone seemed the same, but how everyone was dressed now pointed out how many different cultures and styles were actually in one class. While Abel always liked to wear jeans very low on his hips and an unbuttoned denim camp shirt over a tighter t-shirt, Antonio usually dressed in skinny jeans with a tight v-neck t-shirt, and Feliciano and Romano apparently preferred to leave the four top buttons of their shirts unbuttoned. Yes, those guys liked to show some chest.

Gilbert stood out because of the flashy texts on his t-shirts. Today, for example, his black t-shirt said in neon-green letters "Like a BOSS". He wasn't sure if it was true, but Abel had heard he had one with an arrow pointing down, saying "_Funf meter_". He hoped that was a lie.

The other end of the line was Arthur, who dressed like an old man in Abel's eyes. What he wore was the same as their school uniform, shirt and cardigan, but in different colours and without the tie. And thank heavens, black jeans instead of chequered trousers. And that way, everyone in the group had a different style that stood out one way or another.

The five teachers who would be leading the trip tried their best to count the students and check if everyone was actually there. They made sure to count everyone, even the unnoticeable or short students. They made sure to pay extra attention to those. It would be a disaster if they were to miss a student in the process.

Soon the students were told to drop their bags into the trunk of the bus. Quickly after they all rushed into the vehicle to get the best places next to someone they liked. It was a bit of a mess inside with everyone attempting to squeeze themselves through the small paths of the bus.

Matthew felt like he was about to get squashed because as usual, people didn't seem to notice him in the least bit. He squirmed himself through the crowd, found himself a seat and didn't pay any more attention to the other students. He didn't care if anyone would sit next to him or not, as long as they wouldn't sit _on_ him, by mistake. Again. Especially Ivan had done that a few times, simply because he didn't notice him sitting there.

There appeared to be one person who did seem to notice him this time. Abel. The tall teenager dropped himself on the seat next to Mathew casually. "Hey, Matty."

"Please don't call me that."

"Sure. Matty." He teasingly added. Matthew rolled his eyes and gave him a weak slap on the shoulder.

"You didn't want to sit with your sister?"

Abel looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "What, and spend seven hours listening to what a cute dress Lin is wearing? No thanks. I'll pass."

Matthew sniggered. "It takes eight hours at least to get from Brussels to Paris, you knew that, right?"

"Yeah. The rest of the time she'd be bitching about what an asshole I am and how much I stink."

For Matthew, the decision not to respond to that was quickly made. Comments about his smoking habit were never appreciated, so Matthew wisely refrained from speaking. He also decided not to start about Abel and his always so charming choice of words. That guy did have a foul mouth sometimes, but somehow, he himself hardly seemed to notice.

Mr. Trouillefou, the teacher in charge for this trip looked at his watch impatiently. They were already five minutes late on schedule, and that loud bunch of teenagers just wouldn't hurry up. The man tied his shoulder length black hair into a ponytail to distract himself from his own irritation.  
When his class was finally ready, he took the microphone. "Listen up, everyone! So. We're about to go to Paris. Who's excited?"

The majority of teenagers replied with a loud 'me!'.

"We'll be on this bus for the next eight hours or so, so try not to annoy each other too much."

Gilbert, sitting all the way in the back of the bus, sniggered. "I bet he only said that because I threw paper airplanes at him in first year when we went to that amusement park in Holland. And last year."

"You're such an idiot." Ludwig said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I am more mature than you are. Isn't that supposed to be the other way around?"

"You're just boring and stiff."

"You call it boring and stiff, I call it disciplined."

The albino leaned back with his hands comfortably behind his head. "Heh. Discipline can kiss my _Arsch_."

Ludwig shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Which is exactly the reason you've already repeated a grade twice."

"Hey, hey. That's a little below the belt." Gilbert defended himself. He usually pretended not to care too much, but he didn't like to be reminded of the fact he wasn't the brightest or most disciplined student. At least he tried.

While the two German brothers were still quarrelling, Trouillefou was still telling them what to do and what not to do. The man with the charming French accent took his place in the front of the bus, and they finally left on an eight-hour journey to Paris.

~o~o~o~

Well…chapter 1. A bit of a general introduction to the setting. I hope you like the general idea a bit. I will outline the main characters a little more in the next chapter.

TRANSLATIONS:

mi corazón = (Litterally) my heart, but it is used as endearing name, such as darling, sweetheart etc.

Funf meter = Five metres. Every Prussia fan should know that one. ;)

Arsch = Ass. But that was fairly obvious.


	2. Chapter 2

Translations of non-English words will be given at the bottom of the page. 

Thank you curse of ondine and Idea-explosion for your kind reviews!

~o~o~o~

Eight hours and five minutes of talking, boredom, sore backsides and goofing around later, the bus parked in front of the hotel. The students rushed out as soon as they got the chance to do so to stretch their legs, get their stuff and get to their room. Eight hours of sitting really was too long, and there seemed to be a competition of who could whine the most between the usual attention-drawing classmates.

The lobby of the hotel filled with whiny teenagers instantly, all waiting for their keys. Only clearing his throat once, Mr. Trouillefou had everyone's attention. "Since there are only rooms for two, my colleagues and I have set up a list to assign everyone a roommate. Listen carefully, as I'll only tell you this once. When you hear your names, you can pick up your keys and room number here from Mrs Bennett. Be quick because we'll collect here again in forty-five minutes for dinner."

Of course every student had a preference for a roommate, and for some, they were to discover, their hopes came true.

"Here it goes: Antonio Fernandez Carriedo and Romano Vargas."

The Spanish teenager visibly smiled while Romano's cheeks turned a deeper shade of red. They quickly picked up their keys and disappeared upstairs. The class figured the teacher knew nothing of their relationship otherwise they would never have been allowed in the same room. Never.

"Roderich Edelstein and Gilbert Beilschmidt."

"What?!" Roderich shouted. "I will _not_ share a room with _him_! I refuse!"

"Ah, come on." Gilbert said, teasingly putting an arm around Roderich's shoulder. "It'll be fun!"

"Boys! Please be quiet." The teacher interrupted. "Ivan Br-bru-buh whatever. I still can't pronounce that. And Yao Wang. Natalia and Yekaterina."

"But _I_ want to share a room with my brother!" Natalia growled demonically.

"Nooo! Go away!" Ivan cried, clinging to his older sister's back.

"Natalia! You're scaring Ivan! Stop it, please!" Yekaterina protectively attempted to tell her off. Of course her nice and careful approach didn't work on her younger sister. It never did.

Ignoring the ruckus that was going on, Mr Trouillefou read out the rest of the list until the last students had their roommates. "Alfred and Matthew Jones. And Arthur Kirkland and Abel Diepeveen."

"What?!" Arthur shouted loudly at the mere thought of the Dutchman. "I object!"

"Heh. What's the problem, Arth?" Abel chuckled, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and a cigarette loosely between his lips.

The teacher sighed. After having been in a bus for more than eight hours, breaking up a fight was about the last thing he needed. "Arthur, listen to me. I know you and Abel don't get along perfectly, but you'll be able to behave for six nights, right?"

"I certainly will, but I am rather uncertain about _that_ bloke!" He sneered, pointing at Abel.

The elder Frenchman sighed again. "And another thing, _Abel_." He said severely.

"Hm?" The tall blonde looked the man in the eyes before his cigarette got snatched away from his lips and crushed under the teacher's foot. "No smoking inside."

Abel casually blew out the last cloud of smoke, right past the teacher's face. "Sure. I'll keep it in mind. I've got to share a room with a tell-tale after all, so I won't be able to break any single rule anyway."

"Good. Hurry up to unpack, you two. We're leaving for dinner in half an hour." Trouillefou handed him the key to the only room left on the top floor.

While walking all the way up to the fourth floor, Arthur kept grumbling and mumbling about how he despised having to share a room with the foul-mouthed, cynical, rude, obnoxious Dutchman. "I cannot believe they actually did this to me. How could they possibly put me in one room with a guy like that while they know we don't get along?"

The fourth floor was small and only had two rooms. At least no one would hear the fighting.

"I'm right here. I can hear everything you're saying. Thank you." Abel let out an annoyed growl, taking out the keys to the room. He quickly turned around, bringing his face centimetre-close to Arthur's. The Brit could still smell the strong scent of cigarettes from before and he didn't like it at all.  
"Hey, put a sock in it, will ya? Listen up, it's not my favourite hobby either, but we only have to share a room. It's not as if we have to share a-" Upon opening the door and peeking inside, Abel suddenly fell silent, and his mouth dropped open.

"What is the matter all of a sudden?"

"-bed." Abel finished his sentence. He gritted his teeth and pinched the bridge of his nose hard. This had to be a nightmare. Just a nightmare.

It was just not that both boys realised there was, just like in every other room, only one bed for two people.

"Oh, bugger." Arthur said bitterly.

"_Godverdomme_." Abel cussed, even more bitter than Arthur.

The two looked at each other as if they were about to faint. "This is going to be a looong week." Both realised.

In the room next to theirs, Alfred was already bouncing up and down in excitement. Literally. He was sitting on the edge of his bed and jumped up and down while laughing loudly.

"Al! Calm down please! The teachers will come and check!"

"They won't hurry their ass all the way here for just some jumping. Come on, Matt. We're in Paris!"

"Hm. I know." Matthew sighed and unpacked his suitcase. Of course he enjoyed the idea of going on a trip with the rest of his class, but he wasn't too happy with his roommate. The only reason Romano and Feliciano, and Gilbert and Ludwig didn't share a room was because they had explicitly asked Trouillefou if they'd please not have to be locked up with their siblings. Otherwise they would have shared a room too.  
Matthew regretted he hadn't. Since they were siblings, he and Alfred had to spend many vacations in one room, but the simple fact Alfred always kept him out of his sleep one way or another made Matthew more than just slightly annoyed. But because of always being in his younger twin's shadow, Matthew's complaints always fell on deaf ears.  
Therefore, he'd just have to cope with yet another tiring, sleepless vacation. On the other hand: they were in Paris. This would definitely be worth a few nights of insomnia. Right?

~o~o~

*sigh* Roommates. Sharing a room or bed with a sibling isn't always fun. Especially not when they shift a lot in their sleep. *slapped*

I wonder how long they will put up with each other before Abel throws Arthur out the window…

Oh, **translations**:

Godverdomme means goddammit. Yeah, Abel has a bit of a (typically Dutch…) foul mouth, so be prepared.


	3. Chapter 3

Arthur had never felt more terrified about going to sleep that night. Not only was he in France, a country he had a slight prejudice against, he also had to share a _bed_ with someone he couldn't stand.

He and Abel tried to, as long as they were in their room, avoid and ignore one another as much as possible. This all seemed to go pretty well, even when the most feared moment was there. Arthur had to suppress a snigger when Abel grumbled about French people being too short; he was taller than the bed, so his feet stuck out on the end. Because of this, he saw no other way out than curling up, and with that also taking more space and leaving less for Arthur. For the Brit who wasn't used to letting anyone in this personal space of two feet, this was pretty uncomfortable. And the fact that the person next to him had chosen to sleep shirtless made it even more awkward for him. Even though Abel didn't seem to care in any way.

Luckily, regardless of the one-sided awkwardness, both Abel and Arthur fell asleep quickly that night. Not that surprising, as it had been a very tiring day. This sleep was more than welcome, and so was the feeling of warm blankets and a soft mattress. The soft breeze that came in through the open window made both the temperature and the thick air in the small room a lot more bearable. Pleasant even.

However, after only a few hours, the first problem occurred: Abel woke up after a short while of shivering thanks to the uncomfortable chill down his back. When he opened his eyes, his thought processes were still very slow.  
'Ugh, what time is it?' he thought, taking a glance at his mobile phone. He quickly noticed it was only two in the night.  
A little more annoyed already, as his head started to work a little. 'Why don't I have any blankets?' He thought frustrated, slowly turning his head and glaring at Arthur.

The Brit was sound asleep, smiling like an innocent child being contently curled up in the blankets. All of the blankets.  
Abel rolled his eyes and gave a grunt in annoyance. "Fuck you, Arthur." He said out loud, and kicked his classmate over the edge without any form of hesitation.

With a loud yelp and a hard bang, Arthur ended up on the floor right next to his bed. Loudly swearing and shouting, he crawled out of the pile of blankets. "What the bloody hell is your problem?" He shouted at Abel, who was still glaring daggers at him from higher up.

"My problem is that _you're_ possessive and _I'm_ cold. You're not alone, you know." Abel sneered.

Arthur gritted his teeth. Sure, he was embarrassed, but he couldn't let Abel know. He simply crawled back onto his bed, rearranging the blankets a bit and turning around to go back to sleep. "Arsehole." He whispered at his classmate.

"_Klootzak_." Abel whispered at the same time, before going back to sleep as well.

After this little incident, all they wanted was to go back to sleep and forget about this dreadful situation as soon as possible.

Fate, however didn't appear to be on their side. Three more hours later, it was Arthur who woke up. This time, the problem appeared to be his ability to sleep soundly. Half-choking, he woke up to a bad nightmare. The first thing he usually did when having a nightmare was turning around, but now he suddenly found himself unable to. 'What is it now?' He wondered, slowly getting a few thought-processes starting up in his head. Then the realisation reached his mind that there was an arm loosely draped around his waist, and he was in fact, on his roommate's half of the bed. Also was Abel shamelessly leaning against him, leaving him absolutely no personal space whatsoever.

Arthur's face slowly turned into an expression of utter horror and disgust. "Eyaaaaah!" He shouted. "Goddammit, Abel! If you want to fall asleep somewhere, don't do it on _me_, you bloody wanker! Have you gone out of your bloody mind?! What the bleeding hell is wrong with you?!"

Upon waking up, Abel gave a shout as well. He quickly pushed Arthur away and crawled back a little himself. Not only at the position he and his classmate were in, but also at what said classmate had just shouted out loud after hours of silence. Every sound felt like it could be tearing his eardrums. "Shut up, you blasted idiot." He hissed. "Not everyone in Paris has to know what is happening in here."

Arthur was practically boiling with rage. Being in such a position was utterly humiliating, and above all, it was Abel. "Well, that won't be a problem. Those French frogs refuse to speak English anyway, so no one in Paris will have understood what I just said."

"Yeah, sure. What about our classmates? I guess Elizabetha fainted by now."

"Well she can go to bloody hell with her disgusting mind."

"Forget it." Abel grumbled and turned away.

Even more annoyed and cranky than before, Arthur turned around again. He did not want to think anymore. All he wanted was sleeping. And so, the two went back to sleep again. Abel already had a plan in his head, just in case. If Arthur would do something he didn't like again, he already had a new nasty plan ready. And indeed: Throughout the night he got kicked and hit several times by a very restlessly sleeping Arthur.

'Just you wait." Abel thought. 'I'll get you. You'll see.'

He took his cell phone, searching for a certain file he had saved there. It wasn't like he could sleep anymore before it was six 'o clock.

Abel sat straight up in his bed, getting a weak hit from a sleeping Arthur any now and then. The Brit rolled to the edge of his bed again, nearly falling off.

Abel raised an eyebrow as he plugged the television speakers into his phone. He tapped the touch screen a few times and then put it down on the shelf the television was on. He then lay back down with a content grin on his face. 'Just you wait, Arthur.' He triumphantly thought to himself. When he was just about to settle into a comfortable position again, he received, instead of a hand, a foot in the face for a change. The idiot had somehow managed to turn a quarter in his sleep. "Fuck you, browface." Abel whispered.

When the clock of the cell phone changed from 05:59 to 06:00, the just installed alarm went off. Without any form of warning, a loud and fast guitar solo blasted though the speakers in a volume that was too high to be comfortable after a long time of silence.

"Yaaargh!" Arthur screamed, slammed out of his sleep by Dragonforce's guitar art. In a reflex, he backed away, tumbling over the edge. Again.

For the second time in a short amount of time, Arthur found himself on the floor, covered by a pile of blankets.

Abel laughed loudly, accompanied by the intro of Soldiers of the Wastelands. He turned off the music when he saw Arthur's poison-glaring eyes rise above the surface of the bed. The Dutchman still kept laughing loudly, falling onto his back at the hilarious reaction Arthur had just given.

"Bloody hell, Abel! I swear you can't get any more childish than you are now. Stop laughing like a baboon, you bloody git!"

Abel, however entirely ignored the message. He turned off the music and tried to keep his laughing under control. "You-ahahaha! You should see your face right now! _Geniaal_!" He rolled onto his back on his bed, twitching and nearly choking with laughter. "Just…your face-daahahaha!"

"That's it! I've got enough of you and your childish behaviour!" Red with anger, Arthur ran out of the room towards the one of Mr. Trouillefou on the floor below. He rammed on the door of the man's room, not giving a shit it was in fact just past six in the morning.

After the French teacher had gotten over the shock of the noise, he appeared in the doorframe. He looked like he hadn't slept either, and Arthur hoped he'd never have to see his teacher with heavy bags under his eyes, his always neatly combed hair a complete mess and his belly lightly hanging over his pyjama trousers ever again. Not to mention the already greying chest hair. "_Merde_. What is it now, Arthur?"

"Sir! Abel is driving me stone bonkers! I haven't gotten the chance to rest for one single moment in the past night. I've been kicked out of my bed! Literally! Please let me switch rooms, with a girl if you must, but please don't make me spend the rest of this week with that barbarian in one room!"

In the meantime, some other students had woken up of multiple reasons. Abel's un-subtle wakeup call, for example, or Arthur's shouting in the corridors. A few girls turned around and walked away when they saw their complaints were already being taken care of.  
Matthew, who had woken up because of the music and shouting, decided to wait a moment and listen to the conversation between Arthur and Mr. Trouillefou.

The dark-haired teacher let out a heavy sigh. "Arthur. Calm down. It's fine. I'll let you swap rooms."

Arthur sighed in relief.

"But I'll have to find one first. The only room you could move into is Francis' room because he is alone. And that has a reason."

Arthur gritted his teeth. 'Well,' he thought. 'I suppose I'll have to choose between getting molested in my sleep or not sleeping at all.' The idea alone made him shiver.

By the corner near the stairs, Matthew was listening to the conversation. No, this wouldn't qualify as eavesdropping. They simply didn't see him.  
He knew it. This was his chance to get rid of having to share a room with Alfred. This was one of those rare moments he'd gather enough courage to speak up and get what he wanted, instead of what other people wanted at his cost.

"I'll swap rooms with you, if you want." He proposed, drawing the attention to himself. It came out as a relief. Not only to Matthew, but to Arthur as well.

"Are you okay with that?" Arthur asked. "That bloke is a pain in the arse, I tell you."

"I'll be fine." Matthew answered with a sweet smile. For now, he was glad that they actually heard him this time.

"Well, than that's taken care of." Mr. Trouillefou announced. He waited one moment for Abel to arrive as well so he could agree or disagree with the plan. "Abel, Arthur is going to switch rooms with Matthew. Are you okay with that?"

The carefree-looking teenager took a friendly glance at Matthew, but it seemed as if he had already decided. "'kay. Sure."  
Trouillefou let out an air in relief. "Matthew. Can you wake Alfred up and tell him you're going to swap rooms?"

"Sure!" Matthew replied and was immediately off to tell the news to his brother. As he proceeded to his room, Matthew cheered inwardly. He'd finally be able to sleep! Aside from that, he'd also get to share a room with someone he really liked instead of just anyone who didn't have a roommate yet.

And had Abel, by any chance, just smiled at him? Or had that just been his imagination?

~o~o~

Oh, how I love torturing Arthur. No, not in that way, you pervert!

Translations:

Klootzak is an informal word for scrotum. It is one of the many Dutch equivalents of asshole.

Geniaal is the adjective form of genius.

Merde means shit in French. But I assume you already knew that.

Anyway, please review!


	4. Chapter 4

Thank you, Idea-explosion for the idea for this chapter. I know it was just with a few words, but oh, the possibilities with your review ;) Without you, this chapter would never have been there.

~o~o~

Happier than ever before, Matthew burst into his room. He did this so loudly, his snoring twin, who was currently sleeping all over the place, jumped straight up. His shoulders hung the second after as he rubbed his eyes. "Whah-wud? Matt? What's up so early in the morning?" He asked hazily, still hugging Matthew's pillow while his own had been discarded to the floor a few hours ago. The blankets were a crumpled pile over his feet and over the edge.

"I made an agreement with Arthur. We're switching rooms." Matthew said, still only half believing it himself.

"Wud? What? What?!" Alfred sat up straight immediately, startled awake.

"You heard what I said." Matthew answered, hastily gathering his stuff together.

"But, dude. That means Arthur's gonna sleep here!"

"Well, yes. That was the whole idea."

Alfred jumped out of his bed immediately and Matthew was sure he would have started running in circles if the narrow room had allowed him to. "But-but-but! Dude! You're making me share a room with Arthur! You know what that means, right?!"

"Yes, I'm helping you take the first step into the right direction." It was difficult not to snigger at Alfred's desperate reaction.

"Aaargh! Matt! That's…how did you even know I had a crush on him?!"

Matthew sighed and looked up. "Al. You talk in your sleep. A lot. Sometimes even more than during the day."

Alfred yelped and put both his hands into his messy hair. This was bad. "How did you make me say that?! I didn't say that from myself, did I?!"

"You did." Matthew responded. He had to admit seeing Alfred freak out like the world was about to end was rather funny. He hadn't even put his glasses on yet. Thanks to that, it didn't take long for Alfred to trip over his own shoes and fall face-first onto his bed. "But Matt! What if I say that kinda stuff when Arthy's here?! He's gonna kill me 'till I'm dead!"

"Arthy?" Matthew asked, sniggering behind his hand. "You call him Arthy? I can tell you now he's probably not going to like that."

Matthew didn't hear his brother's panicked shouting anymore. He almost had his things gathered to bring it to the other room. He opened the door, only to nearly bump into Arthur.

"Oh, sorry Arthur!" Matthew quickly apologised.

"Don't mention it. Good luck with that nuisance of a beanstalk. And good morning, Alfred." He greeted. He crossed his arms and raised one of his thick eyebrows at the younger one of the twins.

Alfred tensed up at the spot and slowly turned around. "Oh, hi Arthur."

"Hi. As of now, we are sharing a room, it seems."

Matthew quickly passed him and hurried away. "Good luck, you guys." He said, but they didn't seem to hear it. It was their mess to take care of now.

"Says who?" Alfred asked, trying to hide the fact he was freaking out on the inside. Arthur's eyes were drawn towards the complete mess of a bed and he shook his head.

Alfred saw this, and he was instantly uneasy again. This wasn't really a good start. Not at all. What was he supposed to do now? Try to hide that hell of a mess? Distract him? Act oblivious? He didn't know.

"Says Trouillefou. I'm surprised you didn't wake up from Abel's 'wake-up call' this morning."

"Well, yeah…I-eh…sleep though a lot."

"Including History and English class?"

"Yeah, that too. So…why did you and Matt switch rooms? I think I missed something."

Arthur shot him a sarcastic glance that had the sentence 'why are you so stupid?' dripping off it. "My roommate has kicked me out, nearly choked me and woke me up with one hell of a noise at six in the morning. Does that sound like a reason?"

"Yeah. How did you get Matt so far?" Alfred wondered. Maybe it was too early in the morning, or maybe he just really didn't understand.

"Surprisingly enough, the lad volunteered." Arthur sighed.

"Sounds more like 'sacrificed himself' than 'volunteered'."

"Yes, well, I don't think Matthew was exactly fond of his roommate either." Arthur once again glanced at the complete mess Alfred's sleeping place was. Yes, sleeping place. It wasn't exactly recognisable as a bed anymore. He could see Alfred wasn't exactly a steady sleeper, but at least he wouldn't kick him out on purpose. Or so he hoped.

Alfred was once again reminded of this not-so-great part of himself, and the worst part was that Arthur hadn't even been inside the room for a minute. On top of that, Alfred hadn't ever been this awkward before. Usually when he was around Arthur, there were other people around and he could just be himself and hide behind the others if he had to. Now, he was alone with him in a messy hotel room in France, both only wearing their pyjamas.  
And a watch, it seemed.

Arthur checked his and came to the conclusion that it was only fifteen minutes past six, and that it would be two hours or even more before their teachers would make their rounds to get everyone to wake up. "I don't know what you wanted to do, but I'm going back to sleep for a couple of hours." He rearranged the sheets and claimed one half of the bed for himself.

"Uh, yeah. That sounds like an idea." Alfred said, before yawning. He just now realised it was still very early and he should probably follow Arthur's example of lying back down and taking the two remaining hours he had to sleep.

Even so, he could tell he probably wouldn't be able to fall asleep with Arthur being right next to him. Especially when knowing he shifted like no one in the world when he was asleep. Arthur wasn't at all uneasy, it seemed, as he turned to look at Alfred after he had settled. "Aren't you going back to sleep, Alfred?"

This brought him back to earth again. "Uh, yeah." He lay down on his bed again, pulled the covers up to his chest and looked at the ceiling. After a few seconds, he noticed Arthur's breath distantly stroking his neck and he turned around at his roommate. Even though he probably should have expected it, he couldn't help but being taken aback when he noticed Arthur was facing his way, and was in fact not asleep. No, the Brit was very much awake, and also very close now thanks to Alfred turning.  
It was not that he minded it, though.

It was also the first time to literally have a closer look at Arthur. His eyes were greener than Alfred had always thought they were, his lashes were long and light and his porcelain skin was dotted with freckles. A lot of them. They were just small darker dots scattered over his nose and his cheeks.  
It was the first time Alfred noticed something else than his thick eyebrows. Especially the freckles were intriguing. The made his otherwise so harsh and serious look more soft and innocent. His features were both mature and innocent; a rare, but beautiful combination.

"What are you looking at?" Arthur asked, but it didn't sound like he actually meant 'stop staring at me', as it usually did when someone asked that question. It sounded like he was genuinely interested in what he was looking at. Alfred immediately looked somewhere else, but his eyes went back to Arthur's again. "I never noticed you had freckles." Alfred said, a little blunter than he had hoped.

Arthur looked away and with an expression that looked like a mix of annoyance and embarrassment. "I usually don't let people close enough to see. And that has a reason."

"Why? It's cute." Alfred gasped when he said that. It had rolled out of his mouth before he realised it. Oh, now he had done it.  
Arthur's eyes were growing wider, and he seemed to look for the appropriate words. "Cu-cute? I think should inform you that you have a rather strange definition of cute, Alfred. Maybe you should have your head checked."

"What do you think is cute then?" He asked, more than a little offended. This had only been a way to hide how much he wanted to turn back time and slap himself to silence before he had said it, but now he was curious.

"Well, eh. That depends on the context and what exactly you mean." Arthur sat up and folded his hands in his lap.

"What do you think is cute about a girl?" Alfred asked, leaning back on his elbows and looking at his roommate.

"What?" Arthur asked.

"Or a guy, if you prefer." Alfred added casually.

"What?!" Arthur squeaked. His mouth hung open and he was looking for his words again. "I have never told anyone that! How did you know?!"

"Dude, relax. I was just joking." Alfred quickly said, and a sly grin crawled onto his face. "But this is nice to know." He smiled visibly. Okay. Now he was in control of the situation again.

"Oh, don't be ridiculous! Why would you want to know that? It's not as if my sexual orientation is of any importance, or your business."

"Dude, we've been friends for what, five years now? That's one of those things you tell your friends. I'm just interested, that's all." Alfred put his glasses on. From this short distance it was easier to see without them, but he thought it'd be just a bit more comfortable to keep a little more space between them at his point. The last thing he wanted was scaring Arthur away.

Arthur wasn't going to answer that. He merely raised an eyebrow. "Interest or wishful thinking?" He asked.

Alfred swallowed. "How did _you_ know that?!" He shrieked, and only realised the mistake he had made when Arthur grinned in victory. "Just a lucky guess, but this is nice to know. I think we're even now." Still grinning, Arthur turned away and covered himself tightly in the blankets.

"Go back to sleep, Alfred. Now is not the time for such a conversation."

"Hey, that's not fair! And I'm not even tired anymore."

"Well, I am. Just for your information: I haven't slept one single minute in this past night, and I am going to use every minute of rest I can get from now."

"Dude! Do you think I can sleep now?! I'm totally flipping right here!"

"You can stay awake if you want, but do so in silence, please. I'll talk to you again in an hour and a half exactly."

"But, dude! You just-!"

Arthur looked around and threw him a demonic glare that would have made the Devil himself wet himself and scream for his mother like a small child. "Go to sleep and forget this ever happened." He doomed.

Alfred yelped and gave in. He lay back down as well and tried to sleep. Needless to say, that was a difficult task when your secret you had been keeping for years now had just been guessed by the very subject of said secret. He looked at his mobile phone every few minutes to see how long he still had to wait until eight o' clock at least, but time seemed to be going backwards at this point.

He started jumping back and forth between dreaming and being startled awake because of said dream. Waiting had never been his strongest point, but this was absolutely killing. How was he ever going to survive waiting that long? He couldn't sleep anymore, but staying awake only got him more and more anxious.

He thought it would never come, but when it was finally eight o'clock, Alfred carefully leaned over to Arthur. Again, his eyes fell on his long eyelashes and those light freckles. Suddenly, waking him up didn't seem like the best idea anymore. He was so sweet and innocent like this. Not to mention that he would probably be not as sweet and innocent in his choice of words if he were to be woken up right now.

Instead of waking him up, Alfred carefully stroked his cheek with the side of his finger. Softly and slowly, he caressed the smooth skin and captured the feeling. If this wasn't perfect.  
He was so handsome. Arthur looked so perfectly mature and warm, but at the same time innocent. He was just something you wanted to hug as soon as you laid eyes on it.

"I'm awake, you know." Arthur suddenly said, only after that opening one eye to see Alfred's reaction.

He quickly withdrew his hand and turned to lie on his back again. His cheeks flared up, but he chose to ignore it. "You could've said something sooner."

"What, and ruin a perfect chance to annoy you? Tsk. As if."

"You're terrible." Alfred said and hid his head underneath his pillow.

"Terrible you say? Hm. Not more than an hour and a half ago you said you had a crush on me." He said, sadistically grinning.

"Stop it!" Alfred shouted from under the pillow, but Arthur wasn't exactly planning to listen.

On cue, someone knocked the door rather hard. "Guys! Time to get up!" Trouillefou said from the other side of the door.

"We're awake." Alfred said, and completely tried to forget what had happened the past morning. This was all too awkward. He put his jeans on and grabbed his dog tags from the bedside table. From the rustling behind him, he could make up Arthur was doing the same. "Hey, Arth. Where were we going again today?" Alfred didn't dare to look around.

"I thought we'd go to the Louvre and the Notre Dame." Arthur responded blankly. He buttoned his shirt up and straightened it out.

After that, not a word was spoken anymore. Alfred looked at the floor and put his t-shirt on. Okay, so Arthur wasn't interested. That was fine. That was completely fine, no problem at all. He just wasn't his type, that was all.  
But Alfred knew there was no fooling himself there. He was disappointed. He had wanted Arthur to like him so badly for so long, but now reality had caught up. And all this just because his brother just had to be the perfectly polite kid again and offer to help Arthur out. Just great.

Well, at least there was no way this week could become more awkward now. And Matthew was dead the moment Alfred would catch him. For damn sure.

~o~o~

Oh, Matthew. You can be such a troll sometimes. Poooor Alfred. Yup, awkward situation is awkward.

Sorry for the crap-tastic chapter, but I had to add this. If I hadn't, the next chapters would have been very random for no reason.

**Please review, my few dear readers. I know you are out there somewhere. My stats told me so. **


	5. Chapter 5

**Thank you, Idea-Explosion for the review. I'll try my very best to improve my writing with your advice. **

**Now you'll finally get to know why I had to put in that last chapter. It's still random, but not as random anymore. **

~o~o~

That morning, everyone gathered in the hall at half past eight. Of course some students had hardly even closed their eyes during the night, and it wasn't exactly a secret who those students were.

Both Abel and Arthur tried their very best to keep their lids from closing entirely, but even that proved to be difficult after a night of only three hours of sleep. Let alone standing straight up.

Completely the opposite seemed to be Mrs Bennett. She was the perky young art teacher who had been their homeroom teacher in first year and was still the youngest teacher, even though she had already been working for the Hetalia College for five years.  
She was slim, but not skinny, had a light skin with prominent freckles, naturally red hair and contrasting green eyes. She wore her hair in a jumpy and carefree updo, giving her a quirky and bubbly appearance that perfectly fitted her personality. "Okay, everyone!" Bennett drew their attention. "Today is our first real day in Paris, so we'll have a long day up ahead full of art and French culture. We're going to _Musée du Louvre_ right now, so that's quite the exciting start. Now let's go!" Her French pronunciation was very close to perfect. Some suspected Trouillefou to have given her pronunciation-lectures before allowing her to speak only one word French in public.

The group followed the art teacher closely. On their way there, Bennett told plenty of facts about the museum she knew. Not only did she tell about the artworks, but also the general time periods they would come across. She liked talking about art, even though she knew only five people would be listening to what she was saying.  
When it came to Paris and art history in general, she had a full encyclopaedia in her head.

Matthew didn't see the point in listening. He had more important things on his mind at the moment. The thought that maybe getting Alfred in one room with the person he had had a crush on for quite a while had been a bit cruel. If things were to go wrong, he would be the one to blame for the disastrous outcome.

True, up until now he had no reason to think things would go wrong. Through the years, the twins had gotten along very well with Arthur. Maybe they were even his best friends. But sharing a room was something different for sure.  
Well, the easiest way to find out, Matthew concluded, was to just ask. He already started getting suspicious when he didn't see Arthur anywhere near Alfred. Something had to be off. "Hey, Al. How are you and Arthur getting along in one room?"

Alfred looked around and waited for his older twin to completely catch up. He had his hands in his pockets and didn't exactly look pleased. The bubble of energy he usually had around him was suddenly nowhere to be found. "Horrible. You have no idea how awkward those hours with him were. What about you and the porcupine?"

"We're getting along just fine, thank you. But what happened, Al?"

"I kinda blurted out that-"

"Oh, ouch. You'll be fine. It's not like that would be a reason to-"

"It is, though. As I said, awkward."

"You can stick with me in the museum." Matthew tried. Maybe some time to let everything that had happened, whatever it was, tide away a little would do the trick for him.

It took the group quite a long time to actually get there, and the surprise was even bigger when they saw the queue.

Because they were a group, they were inside the museum in just a matter of minutes. In here, they were free to go wherever they wanted. The majority immediately went off to see the Mona Lisa, the most famous piece in the collection. Matthew however, wasn't in such a hurry. Neither were Judithe and Abel. The two had already taken a flyer and looked at the artworks they wanted to see.

"Okay, I don't understand a word French." Abel grumbled. "What does that say?"

Judithe sighed and rolled her eyes. "You should have paid more attention when mom tried to teach us French."

Abel glared at his sister. "Nah. That language is hella difficult."

Matthew decided to have a look over their shoulders and got into the conversation. Just for the sake of joking around with Abel, he decided to speak French to Judithe. "So, what did you want to see?"

"Well, I wanted to see the Mona Lisa, but not right away. Everyone does that. What if we'd just go there and then follow this route?" Judithe pointed out on the small plan.

"Good idea."

Alfred and Abel just stood there right next to them, left entirely clueless about what they were saying.

"Do you have any clue?" Abel asked Alfred.

"Nope." Alfred replied blankly, not understanding a single word out of what his brother or Judithe were saying. "I didn't know Matthew spoke Spanish." He immediately got knocked on the head. "Ouch! Hey! What's your problem, dude?!"

"It's French, smartass."

"Let's go." Judithe said. They went into the museum and wondered around a little. They saw all kinds of artworks, and some had a small description. Of course, it was in French. "Judithe. Translation." Abel commanded at one of the pieces.

"What am I, a walking dictionary?" Judithe asked, giggling lightly.

Abel responded with a pout and a long drawn out "Nooo." before adding with a big grin: "Google Translate."

Judithe laughed again, lightly jabbing her brother in the ribs with her elbow.

"Hey, this one kind of looks like you." Abel said, pointing at one painting. It was a woman with blonde hair holding a candle. She had gigantic eyes and the expression made every one of them think of thriller.

"Hey!" Judithe squeaked before whacking her chuckling brother on the head with the plan.

The four went further into the museum, Abel and Judithe still occasionally whacking each other on the head with the plan or pinching each other in the waist. This was still taking a little revenge on Abel for comparing her to a zombie.

In the meantime, Alfred got bored. "Matt? Why are we following them?"

"For fun." Matthew simply replied. Abel now mixed into the conversation. "Well, _obviously_, we're just very pleasant people to be around." He said with a chuckle, obviously being sarcastic. The longer they were in the museum, the conversation lived up between the four.

When they reached the African Art-room, Matthew stopped in front of a certain sculpture of a head. It was rather long, had a grin that was wider than its face, and one eye that was bigger than the other. It was a serious piece of artwork, but Matthew couldn't help but giggle.

"What's that-Oh, my god, that thing is so weird!" Judithe laughed.

Since Judithe still hadn't given Abel some proper payback for comparing her to a zombie, she decided this was a nice opportunity. "Hey Abel! This one kind of looks like you!" Judithe nearly got tears in her eyes and had to lean on Matthew in order not to fall.

Abel sheepishly looked around at the thing. "Huh, whud? Ah, what the hell, sis? I don't look like that!" He shortly threw a weird expression, consisting out of a wide smile and one eye squinting to caricature the head he had just been compared to.

Matthew still laughed. "You have to admit she's kind of right."

This time, Abel whacked Matthew upside the head. "So what's your doppelganger? That Easter Island statue over there?"

Matthew shook his head. "No, that is Alfred's…where is he?"

Abel and Judithe looked at each other and then back at Matthew. Alfred wasn't in the room anymore and they hadn't noticed him leaving either.

"We'd better find him before he's going about being himself and ends up being kicked out." Matthew suggested. They went to the next rooms, not paying attention to any of the artwork anymore and only looking for Alfred. That was much more fun anyway than looking at dusty old stuff.

They found him amidst another group of classmates being his hyper and loud self. The group seemed to enjoy his obnoxious behaviour, but Matthew could sink into the ground at the spot. Alfred's little show-stealing didn't take long though: It appeared the other visitors weren't too charmed of the American teenager and within a few seconds, there was a guard tapping him on the shoulder.

Matthew pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. "I'll go help him out before he gets arrested." He said and went to his brother.

Of course Alfred didn't understand a word of what the guard said. He only blankly stared at the man and pretended not to give a damn. This annoyed the guard, who already was about to lose his temper.

Just in time before this actually happened, Matthew interfered. He got between the guard and his brother and tried to convince the man not to kick Alfred out. Matthew's desperate expression, polite tone and carefully chosen words did seem to help. The guard mumbled something and left with one last warning glance.

"Pfew, thanks Matt." Alfred sighed. "Okay, where was I-Oh, hey! There are Kiku and the other guys." He ran in their direction immediately, leaving Matthew behind with Judithe and Abel.

"What did you even tell that guy to save Al's butt?" Abel asked, blankly staring at his running and hyper classmate.

"I told him Alfred is my autistic brother with ADHD and that he can't help being the way he is and that I'd keep a better eye on him from now on." Matthew said in one tone, also staring blankly at his brother.

Judithe and Abel sniggered. "Autistic? ADHD?" Judithe asked. "And he fell for that?"

"It does sound like Alfred." Matthew answered.

"True."

In the end, they hadn't seen the Mona Lisa. And neither of them cared.

Not long after that, it was time for lunch. The class gathered in the hall where they had arrived again and went outside to find a park to have their lunch. Just fifteen minutes before, Mr. Knox, the blonde English teacher with the thick glasses, and three students had gone to a supermarket to buy all kinds of food to form an improvised buffet for lunch. Creative, and it worked very well.

After that, the class was taken sightseeing around the city. One of the things they quickly ran into was the Notre Dame. Everyone in the class knew about the church. If they hadn't read the book, they had seen it in the old Disney movie in whichever language of the world. There was a queue the size of a street leading in, and one the same size was going out. While the majority decided to have a look inside, some decided they weren't so eager to see the gigantic church on the inside.

Abel, for example thought it was time to take a break to light a cigarette. His usual buddies didn't seem interested either, so they formed a casual group that was just a bit too big to ignore.

Some people were interested in neither joining them nor going into the Notre Dame. Matthew was one of those people. Because it seemed like the perfect opportunity, Matthew carefully went to Arthur, who was about to head for the church. "Hey, Arthur. Alfred said he wanted to talk to you."

"Huh? Now?"

"Yeah."

"O-kay."

Matthew quickly darted away, and Arthur gave him a bit of a suspicious look. Something was off. What was he up to?

When Alfred looked around and spotted Arthur still outside, decided not to go because of that. He needed to talk to him, even though he didn't have the slightest clue of how he should start a conversation. He wasn't one to pick his words carefully, and but he realised very well that a small slip up could completely ruin everything. Of course, after knowing him for more than five years, Arthur was probably used to him saying the weirdest things at the strangest of moments but this wasn't a moment he could afford ruining and saving himself out of with a cheap joke. "Hey, Arth. You're not going in?"

"No. I am not really interested. What about you?" Arthur seemed very calm in the dimmed sunlight of the city.

"Meh, me neither. Catholic churches are all the same anyway." Alfred answered. He tried his very best to hide his disappointment that none of their conversations seemed to go any further than just a shallow level and were only a way to kill time. He just hoped he didn't let it show through his ever-lasting façade of cheerfulness, whether it was sincere or not.

"Okay, Alfred. Spill it. What is bothering you?"

"Wud?"

"You've somehow managed to keep your mouth closed for a few seconds today, which is quite the achievement for you. What is wrong with you?"

How had he even noticed that? "About what we talked about this morning?"

"Yes? I thought we would forget that ever happened." Arthur didn't look at him. He looked past him with an indifferent expression.

"I don't think I want to forget."

"Pardon me?" Arthur asked, eyes growing wider in surprise. "It seems like the kind of conversation you'd wipe from your memory of you had the chance. Or a time machine."

Alfred looked down at the ground. There was no turning back anymore now. "I know what I said, but I didn't think you'd hate me for it."

Arthur's brow furrowed as he processed the links. "Alfred. I don't hate you! Quite the opposite, in fact. What in the world makes you think I hate you?"

Say what? "Dude, you just cut off the conversation and went back to sleep and you've been avoiding me all day." Alfred said flatly.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "It was half past six in the bloody morning! Can I have my moments to sleep too, please? Besides, it's not as though what you told me was something I hear every day. I might very well just have dreamt it." He sneered.

"You could've said that before, you know! Dude, you have no idea how much I worried about tonight! I mean, dude, awkward!"

"You're such a complete idiot, you know that?! Even after so many obvious hints, you still didn't notice a bloody thing!"

"You gave the hints? Yeah right! It's not my fault you never noticed anything unusual about me hugging you or ruffling your hair randomly for no flipin' reason!"

"You call that hints? That's the worst kind of hint in world history! It's so ridiculous no one would even think about seeking anything behind it. You've got to be more secure."

"Say what?! Dude, you read too much Shakespeare!"

"What?"

"You gotta be clear with these kinda things, man! We're not in some cheesy Hollywood chick-flick where people can read each other's minds or something!"

Arthur crossed his arms and glared with narrowed eyes. "So you want clear language?" He asked calmly. He rolled his eyes, shook his head, smacked Alfred hard on the side of the head and then hugged him before he could completely comprehend what had just happened.

Arthur had to stand on the tips of his toes to reach above Alfred's shoulders, but that didn't matter. In a very strict tone, he continued: "Let me tell you this very clearly then: You are my boyfriend from now on, and I am yours. No discussion. Clear?"

This was too amazing to be true, but too strange to imagine. It was laugh-out-loud, funny, but also outright ridiculous. Smiling, Alfred hugged Arthur back around his slender frame. "Yeah, clear enough. Wow. You've got to be the most adorable boyfriend in the world, you know that?"

The Brit pulled away. He was looking a bit shocked, as though he just now realised what he had said was reality and not just a daydream. "How the bleeding hell am I adorable?!" He shrieked.

Alfred laughed. "That! Haha! You should see yourself right now."

"Oh, cut it out, you git!"

"Too late to go back now, Arthy. You've said it yourself, you're my boyfriend now and I'll make sure you keep that promise." Alfred grinned widely and laughed. The sudden urge to hug Arthur wasn't in any way suppressed, and he held the shorter blonde tightly around the shoulders just a second later.

It didn't take the small group of friends long to spot their a-little-too-intimate-to-be-casual hug.  
Abel whistled at them and smirked.

"Wohoo, way to go, Alfred!" Mathias shouted, and a cheer was heard form the group.  
"Nice catch, Arthur." Abel shouted with a grin and a chuckle that made everyone doubt if he actually meant it. He blew out another long string of smoke and laughed. Ludwig shook his head at how obnoxious his friends could be at times. "Can't you guys just leave them alone?"

"Ah, where's the fun in that?" Mathias asked. "A bit of teasing won't hurt. Besides, we're not half as bad as the Trio. Just wait 'till they're out and see _that_."

Ludwig's eyebrow twitched at the mere possibility that he'd have to apologise for his brother's obnoxious behaviour. Again.

"Ah, speak of the devil." Abel said, grinning sadistically. "Looks like the show's about to start. Who brought the popcorn?" He dropped the cigarette stub on the ground and crushed it under his foot. With an amused smirk, he blew out the last bit of smoke as the friends they usually referred to as 'the Bad Touch Trio' walked out of the Notre Dame.

It didn't take long before Antonio spotted Alfred giving Arthur a kiss on the cheek and hugging him like a teddy bear. "Eeey! Look at that!" He pointed at the two of his classmates and the other two followed his gaze.

"Oi, oi, oi! When did that ice queen of a caterpillar-face melt? Kesesese." Gilbert laughed at his own joke. He stuck his hands into his pockets and straightened his back.

"It seems even Arthur isn't frozen enough to resist the warmth of _l'amour_." Francis sniggered

The other group heard the teasing from a distance. "Wasn't Ice Queen Aleksander's nickname?" Abel asked.

"Yeah." Mathias said casually. "Until he stabbed Gilbert in the hand with his hairpin."

"Ah. Makes sense."

The trio didn't particularly run out of jokes. Quite the opposite: they were just getting started. They started hanging around the newly formed couple and made one remark after another. From a bit of teasing, it was starting to go a little too far now. Everyone sensed that.

"Aww, don't you two look sweet together." Francis said teasingly drawing his words out a bit too long to take it seriously. "See, Gilbert? I told you the caterpillar-face had a heart."

"Yeah, sure." He slung an arm around Arthur's shoulder and leaned a little too close to the Briton's comfort. "I'm not convinced until I've seen a kiss. You know, one of those with a looot of tongue. What about you, Toni?"

"Ahaha. I'm not sure if I'd really want to see tha-Ugh." A quick punch in the stomach was all that was necessary to cut the Spaniard off. Romano was the one who had thrown said punch and dragged his still gurgling and cringing boyfriend away by the ear. "Stop being an asshole or I'll show you stuff you don't want to see starting with your own insides!" He doomed. His action drew laughter from the other two of the trio, but that was quickly cut to an end when Ludwig dragged his obnoxious brother away from Arthur by the arm, and then took him into a solid neck-lock. "I can't believe you're this much of an _Arsch_. Haven't you got just the slightest bit of decency?"

"Thanks, Ludwig." Arthur said.

"You're welcome!" The German shouted back in between barking at his brother and scolding him like a child.

Francis breathed in for another series of comments, but he got cut off before even uttering one tone. "Don't even think about it." Matthew quickly said, and Francis decided not to utter a single word and retreat while Matthew still kept a close eye on him just in case.

So it really had worked out. He couldn't help but chuckle at how Alfred was right now. It was just hilarious to see him bouncing up and down like an excited puppy while Arthur's scowl grew fouler and fouler every second until he got enough of it and smacked him upside the head. Matthew silently wondered how long Arthur would hold out with Alfred before going insane.

After this short break, it was time for dinner. They went to a small, quaint Italian restaurant, owned by a childhood friend of Trouillefou's. Luckily, the teachers hadn't noticed a thing of what had been going on between the students earlier at the Notre Dame; the entire class had helped to make sure of that. None of them were quite feeling like letting the teachers ruin the mood that was really starting to grow within the class now.

~o~o~

Say hello to the Bad Touch Trio! You'll read more of them. ^_^

Anyway, according to my stats, the number one country in which this story is read is United Kingdom, followed by Canada. *does happy-dance*

Yes, this surprises me because usually, my only readers are friends I asked/begged to read it. Thanks, guys/girls! *hugs you all*

**As you may be able to tell by the long time it took me to update, I was rather hesitant to upload this chapter. Please don't burn me into the ground. **


	6. Chapter 6

**Hello, my dearest readers. Thank you guys for all the new alerts, favourites and reviews! *hugs you all***

~o~o~

Relief.  
That was how entering his room that evening felt. The day had been long, confusing and tiring and the relative silence was a very welcome gift to Matthew's ears. He wouldn't have to listen to Alfred's chatter anymore from this evening on, and he wouldn't have to deal with his rough sleeping anymore. Finally. That was Arthur's problem now.

Arthur.

Oh, yeah. Arthur.  
That thought had him feel a small tinge of guilt for a moment. The poor lad probably wouldn't be able to even close his eyes tonight. Knowing Alfred, he would probably keep chatting and rambling on until Arthur couldn't take it anymore and knocked him unconscious. Knowing Arthur, it wouldn't take very long before that point was reached.

Matthew didn't even understand how they had gotten together in the first place. He had known for a long time Alfred was…developing certain feelings for their mutual friend Arthur, but he hadn't thought Arthur would actually respond to said feelings. Of course, Arthur was full of surprises and it was extremely difficult to figure out what exactly was on his mind, so he shouldn't be too disappointed in himself.  
That didn't take away Matthew's mixed feeling of surprise and relief on how quickly and seemingly easy things went for them. It was as though things unfolded by themselves without either of them having to do anything at all. It all came so natural to them.

Quite the opposite of Matthew's own situation, which had seemed to be stuck in the same state for about two years now with him silently watching and hoping to be noticed, and Abel completely oblivious. Perhaps it was better that way. Why ruin a great friendship if things could stay the way they were?

Right now, it seemed to be best to pretend there was absolutely nothing going on inside his head other than any normal friendship. If there was any sign the feeling just might be mutual, he'd let something know. Maybe. He had to be sure first. Really sure.

Matthew kept worrying about it even while he brushed his teeth and changed into his pyjamas.

Abel dropped himself on his back on the bed and crossed his hands behind his head. "I have to say, this is way less unnerving then sharing a room with Arthur or Judithe."

Matthew looked at his side, at Abel. 'You think this isn't unnerving for me? Hello, you're shirtless here!', he thought, but refrained from speaking his thoughts. "If she was your brother instead of your sister they would've put you two together in one room."

Abel shivered. "Horrible thought."

"What wrong with your sister? She's nice. At least, to me."

"She is nice to practically everyone but me."

"Why?"

"Who knows? I guess her little brother has a reputation she doesn't want to have anything to do with?"

"_Little_ brother?" Matthew asked. He sat up, slightly surprised that Abel was in fact the younger one of the two. It was impossible to judge it by looks, but he had expected Abel to be older. In the past five years they had known each other, they had never asked each other which one was the older one.

The spiky-haired teenager also sat up, turning a little more towards Matthew to be a little more in the conversation. "Yes, little brother, because I'm the tiniest person in the world." He joked. "Nah, it's only by ten minutes. So which one of you is older? I'm guessing Alfred."

"Eh, no. I am older." Mathew replied, smiling uneasy and pushing his glasses back onto his nose. "By about five minutes."

"Really? Wow. I seriously thought you were the youngest of you two."

"Many people seem to think that. I don't know why." Matthew said, slightly tilting his head and he scratched his neck. "I can't blame you."

Abel mumbled something absently, looking at the wall in front of him. "I guess I'm lucky Judithe is a girl. Not many people expect us to be twins. I've even met a few people who thought she was my girlfriend." He sniggered but at the same time shivered.

Matthew chuckled. "Girlfriend? Ouch. That's wrong in so many ways."

"Not going to happen in so many ways." He hinted, but unfortunately the hint remained unnoticed.

Matthew sighed. "A lot of people take the term 'identical twins' a little too literally. I even got beaten up a few times because people thought I was Alfred."

"That was that one time with Carlos, wasn't it?"

"But he _did_ believe me when I said I wasn't Alfred. I hoped letting my hair grow out would solve the problem, but apparently not."

"Heh heh. You're not that much alike, really. I would like to see Alfred behave like you or vice versa. Would be hilarious." Abel stated, rather surprised people actually thought Alfred and Matthew were alike. The two did look alike, but their attitude, way of talking and style were all entirely different. "Alfred is hyper, and always…very present, and you're quiet and calm and…I don't think it would be a good idea to finish that." Abel corrected himself before he actually spoke his thoughts.

Matthew sniggered at that last comment. "Maybe not, so you'd better not say it if it's really that bad."

"I wanted to say 'invisible', but-." Abel sniggered and blocked the pillow that was aimed at his face just in time.

The two talked and talked, getting lost in a lively conversation and often laughing. After an hour, however, they started to feel the exhaustion of day. The conversation came to an end and they both set their minds on sleeping.

Matthew was about to take off his glasses when he realised something. "Uhm, Abel? Maybe I should tell you that one of the few things I have in common with Alfred is that we both shift a lot in our sleep…So, ehm, please don't be angry if I end up stealing all the covers or something, eh?" Matthew said carefully, his voice soft and hesitant as always.

Abel shrugged. "Okay, I'll keep that in mind. Although I might just forget what you just told me if you kick me in the face in the middle of the night." Abel joked.  
Matthew sniggered softly at the mental image of that.  
"No. Seriously." Abel said, his tone suddenly serious. "Arthur did that last night."  
So Arthur was at least as bad as Alfred? Oh, joy. But that was Alfred's problem now.  
As for himself, this probably wouldn't be much better than sharing a room with Alfred after all. Granted, the chance Abel would kick him in his sleep was slim, but it was quite nerve-wrecking to have the guy you've had a crush on for years right next to you, _without_ a bloody shirt on! Especially since Abel himself didn't seem to think there was anything wrong at all with him being shirtless.

Matthew told himself to turn away, calm down, count to ten and especially not look around every ten seconds!  
...'NOT look around' he told himself again and turned away again.

With that in the back of his mind, he fell asleep.

The following morning, Abel slowly opened his eyes. Whether it was because of the sun shining into the room through the curtains or something else, he didn't know. He was about to find out. Just when his thoughts got a bit cleared up he noticed something rather…unusual. When he realised what exactly that was, he smiled slightly amused but at the same time uneasy as well. He cleared his throat before speaking up in a tone as calm as he could manage in his current position. "Matthew. Do you usually sleep with a teddy bear?"

"Hm? Yeah. Why?" Matthew mumbled, not even half awake yet.

"Ah, makes sense. I appreciate the gesture of affection, but could you please keep my personal space in mind?"

It also took Matthew a few seconds to get his brain started in the morning, but even he was wide awake instantly when he noticed he was in fact cuddling up against his classmate's back.  
With a high-pitched yelp, he backed away onto his half of the bed. Deeply embarrassed and feeling like he was going to melt through the ground, Matthew slapped his forehead. Great. Well, this was one messed-up start of the day. Granted, the position and warmth had been very comfortable, but the other aspects were downright humiliating and inappropriate. This wouldn't be such a great week after all.

Abel took the situation a little more lightly, though. He chuckled and grinned, looking at Matthew's innocent childlike I-just-did-something-stupid expression and even enjoying it. "Come on. I'm not _that_ scary, am I?"

Matthew dived under his covers where he curled up to a ball. The last thing he needed right now would be Abel's teasing. "Stop it." He whined.

In reaction, Abel patted him on the bump that was his head. "Matty, you look like a caterpillar."

"Stop it!"

"Or a gigantic pillow." Abel grinned childishly and plopped down over the blanket Matthew was underneath and with that indirectly cuddling him.

"Whaah! Stop that!" Matthew said and jumped up from underneath his relatively safe barrier. He hit Abel with a pillow but received the same projectile in the face from his target at the exact same moment.

Abel quickly tossed the pillow aside to try another, more effective approach: tickling. He hooked his arm around Matthew's waist, yanked him closer and tickled, poked and pinched his waist.

Matthew yelped and laughed and did many weak attempts to free himself, but he couldn't find any strength as long as he was being attacked by playful pokes and pinches. However hard he tried, he couldn't find enough strength for even a split second to resist the merciless attack.

However, the fun was quickly ruined when Mr. Trouillefou knocked on the door. "Get up, you two. It's time for breakfast." His grumpy voice sounded.

Abel rolled his eyes and made a nag-nag expression in the direction of the door. "Okay!" He replied, and waited until Trouillefou was out of hearing-range.  
They looked each other in the eyes, but remained silent. "Well, that was awkward." Abel said. There was a brief silence before they both burst into laughter.

~o~o~

Ongemakkeluuuuk~! Sorry for this chapter Matty!

Awkward wakeup-call is awkward. Yes, Matthew does usually sleep with a Kumajirou. ^_^

**Please leave a review, my dearest reader. I read and appreciate them all. **


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey everyone! Thank you very much for the very sweet reviews on the past chapters. They really mean a lot to me.**

**Enjoy!**

~o~o~

As the rest of the week would be, the description of this day was out of bed early and into the city again. The group walked after Trouillefou while the three other teachers were keeping an eye on the rest. The man knew the city of Paris like he knew the back of his head by now. He took the group to the Metro again, which wasn't very crowded at this time of day. "And remember. Be quick and stick with the group. You've only got fifteen seconds or so and I don't want to lose sight of any of you. Am I clear?" Trouillefou said once again.

"Yes, sir." They said in unison.

Abel rolled his eyes. This was only the ninth time Trouillefou warned them for that. Yes, he had been counting. Surely they were mature enough to get on a metro, right? What could possibly be that guy's reason to keep rattling that same warning over and over again? Did the record loop somewhere?  
As usual, the metro arrived and the class stepped in, just as yesterday. This time, everyone _did_ remember to hold onto something when the metro left so they didn't tumble over and land on their face because of the sudden acceleration as Gilbert had done the day before.  
Only ten seconds after leaving the station, Kiku started looking around. "Where is Herakles?" He asked when he couldn't seem to spot his friend anywhere.

Trouillefou looked around over the group and so did the other students. Then his mobile phone rang. He rolled his eyes and answered. He had a feeling of who that could be. "Yes?"  
"Sir, I failed." Herakles said from the other side.  
Trouillefou slapped his forehead and grunted. "You failed. Yeah. Okay, stay where you are. I'll be right there to pick you up." He broke the connection and stuck his phone back into his pocket. He grunted again and then exclaimed in an irritated tone: "Sir, I failed." He sighed and shook his head.

No matter how annoyed Trouillefou was at the moment, everyone in the class sniggered, chuckled and giggled. Even Mrs. Bennett, Mr. Knox and Mr. Anderson, who were supposed to take this seriously, cracked a smile. Bennett giggled behind her hand like a young school girl. This was just a great way to start the day. Seeing Trouillefou annoyed like that certainly was hilarious, but on the other hand: they'd have to deal with him for the rest of the day.

The French teacher went back on his own while the others waited at the most nearby station. Of course no one could leave the subject and just joked around to kill time.

Only ten minutes later, Trouillefou returned to them with Herakles right behind him. The Greek teenager didn't exactly seem to mind anything, but Trouillefou was practically steaming with rage at this point.

The rest of the way to Musée d'Orsay went without further event, aside from occasional giggles when Trouillefou looked like he was about to explode in frustration.  
Bennett informed everyone about the history of the museum and let them do as they liked once they were inside. The group split apart into smaller ones and started exploring the place.  
Matthew didn't even have time to decide where to go before he lost Alfred out of sight already. He found him seconds later, hanging around a not very amused looking Arthur's shoulder. "He'll be fine on his own, I guess." Matthew mumbled to himself, and then went after another group of his classmates. Those being Roderich, Elizabetha, Bash and Berwald.

They went around through the museum a little, but Matthew didn't see anything particularly interesting. It appeared that everyone was just going after Roderich, who was serving as a guide for as long as they were there. He was the class' art-geek, especially when it came to history and music. Especially for the latter he appeared to have developed a rather intense obsession. He knew everything Bennett knew and more, and he had the habit of sometimes having hour-long conversations with her outside of school about all kinds of things within the subject 'art'.

Near the end of their visit, they went to the gigantic ballroom where Bennett had told them to gather around twelve. Thanks to Roderich's very strict nature, they were there at the exact second the clock turned one minute to twelve.  
Elizabetha was the first one to gaze around her. This entire room was a piece of art. The white walls with golden details, the big windows, the huge mirrors, the statues, and just…the entire room. Everything was so captivating it threw you right back in time.

Roderich seemed to think so too. Somehow, he seemed perfectly at ease in this room, as though he belonged in this time and place. He looked at Elizabetha turning a pirouette. "This is the kind of place I'd love to play for an entire evening." He said dreamily.

He took his girlfriend by the hand and spun her around to catch her in a dancing-pose. "Or to dance the night away."

Elizabetha smiled dreamily. "I'd love to as well."

They gave each other a quick kiss on the lips and Roderich let her twirl away again.  
Matthew looked at them from a distance with a bit of envy. Of course he thought they completely deserved each other, but he envied Elizabetha just a slight bit for having a sweet, romantic and caring boyfriend. Oh, well. He'd have his turn one day too. One day. Maybe. For now, he'd just have to stick with dreaming.

Now it was just waiting for the moment the class would leave the museum. Trouillefou counted the students in the ballroom. It seemed as though everyone was there, until Trouillefou frowned. He counted again and concluded that two students were still missing.

Alfred and Arthur, Matthew noticed immediately. They weren't in the room. It couldn't be that they had no idea what the time was. Arthur had a watch and they both had a mobile phone.

"Hey, Matty."

Matthew turned around at the familiar nickname. "Please stop calling me that, Abel."

"Sure…Matty."

"Al and Arthur are late. I wonder where they are."

Abel shifted his weight from one leg to another and rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "I know where they are. Point is…I don't think it's a good idea to tell Bennett or any other teacher. And interrupting them in what they are doing right now might just not be the best idea either if you value your life." Abel looked a bit uneasy when saying this.

Matthew raised an eyebrow. "Oh, god. What are they doing?"

"Ahm, well. Erm." Abel awkwardly leaned closer and whispered something into Matthew's ear to make sure their classmates wouldn't hear it too. "They were around a corner somewhere, sort of…cuddling and…kissing." He whispered. "It was kind of scary."

"Oh, my." Matthew gasped. "That's ehm, how do I put it? Unexpected? Although not really, but…Really?"

"Yeah, I saw it. No, I didn't mean or want to, and no, I don't want to go there and tell them to cut it out. They'll take my head."

"Yeah, I think they would. But, really?"

"Yeah. One thing I hoped never to see in my life." Abel shivered.

Matthew shook his head. "I'll text Alfred. They'll be there in a minute, and no blood will be shed." He quickly texted his brother with the message: _Al! We're all waiting for you and Arthur. Get over here!_  
After he sent it, he just went for another round around the room to have a closer look at the frescos, statues and ornaments on the ceiling.

Abel sighed, looking at Matthew from a distance with the greatest difficulty to suppress a smile. That adorable, glassed shorty looked very, very appealing and the urge to just go up to him and hug him unexpectedly was growing every second. This week would take a lot of his self-restraint, Abel realised that very well. Daytime wouldn't be a problem, but the evenings, nights and mornings…those were an entirely different story.

They had been friends for so long now, but sharing a room was a little more intimate than just hanging around with each other. In larger groups, he could distract himself by talking to other people or acting tough, but the moments they were alone in a room together with only each other to talk to and no way of distracting himself were an entirely different story. And still, despite the small physical distance, Matthew seemed too far away.

His racing thoughts were shattered by no one other than Matthew's best friend. "Ah, Abel." Francis said, already a bit mischievous. He slung an arm around his taller classmate's shoulder, which wasn't quite an easy task with a height difference of almost thirty centimetres.

After being recovered from the surprise of being yanked down and nearly losing his balance, Abel grunted in annoyance. "What's up, Beardface?"

"Oh, nothing, my rude friend. I was simply enjoying the _artwork_, just like you." It could clearly be read form his tone that he knew what, or rather, who Abel had just been looking at.

"What are you implying?"

"Nothing. Nothing at all. Just that…" He let go and got into Abel's line of sight with crossed arms. He briefly looked over his shoulder. "He's not as far out of your league as you think. Just give it a try."

"Wait, what?"

Francis smirked widely. "Believe me, I can sense a spark from miles away, and you have definitely got it bad for Matthew."

Abel raised an eyebrow. "Anything I didn't know?"

"Ooh. Touchy, aren't we?"

"You don't say."

Francis shook his head. "Well, you can't say I didn't tell you. See ya." He left again, probably to annoy Matthew, but that wasn't important right now. It was just that either Francis and his two weirdo friends were up to something again, or Francis sincerely tried to help this time. It was never easy to find out which one it was with that guy. Everyone knew he was a sneaky bastard. When in doubt, expect the worst.

Not too long after that, Alfred and Arthur were guided into the ballroom, closely followed by Trouillefou. The teacher was, as expected, not amused. He never was when someone was late. "Really, Alfred. How can you possibly get lost in this museum? Even Bennett knows how to find her way in this place." The teacher barked.

"I don't know either, owowow! Arthur! Let go!" Alfred nearly tripped into the room, being dragged by Arthur by his ear. "Dude! This hurts! Let go!" Arthur reluctantly let go and glared at Alfred as if he wanted to kill him using his eyes.

Trouillefou shook his head and left, and Matthew immediately went to his brother. It was none of his business what they had been doing, but he really wanted to know what the idea or Alfred being dragged by his ear was. And there was something he had to tell them.

However, Alfred and Arthur seemed too busy arguing to notice him. Not surprising. Not surprising at all. They usually didn't notice him.

"Of course I'm irritated. We nearly got caught, you git! If your mobile hadn't gone off, he would definitely have seen us!" Arthur hissed.

"Dude, relax. He didn't actually see-"

"What if he had? That would have meant trouble, for sure."

"Uh, guys." Matthew tried but as always, he remained unnoticed.

"Can you imagine the lecture we would have gotten?"

"It's not as if it's our fault we're sharing a room."

"They'll think we've set it up with Matthew!"

"Guys!" Matthew shouted. This time, he did get their attention. "What happened?"

"Nothing!" Arthur answered a little too quickly.

"Dude, we were just-" He was cut off by Arthur's elbow in his ribs.

"As I said: nothing."

Matthew raised an eyebrow. "Don't worry, I know. Francis caught you on candid camera. I just thought I'd tell you, eh."

"What?!" The couple shouted at the same time.

"He just showed me the video on his phone, and if you keep wasting your time bickering, I'm afraid he'll show the entire class."

"That frog is so dead." Arthur hissed, just at the moment Francis passed.

"Ah, what's wrong, _mon copain_?" He asked in his slyest tone.

"Give me your phone, Francis." Arthur doomed, already reaching for the thing. Sadly, Francis had other plans. He avoided Arthur's snatch for the phone and chuckled teasingly. "You'll have to take it from me if you want it." He ran away as fast as he could, chased by Arthur and Alfred. "Give me that bloody thing or I'll rip your hair out!" Arthur threatened.

"Ohonhonhon. I don't think so." Francis shouted back, but didn't stop running for his life.

Matthew watched with amusement. True, Francis was a good friend, but so was Arthur and this was funny. Also, at one point it occurred to Matthew that a ballroom was a really strange place to be chasing each other around. He hummed the Benny Hill-theme to himself as he watched the rather comical and clumsy chase.

At a certain moment, Alfred and Arthur had their French classmate driven into an inescapable position with his chasers in front of him and a wall behind him. All three panted after running so much, and Francis whipped out his phone. "Oh, come on. It was just a little joke."

"Gimme your cell phone, Francis." Alfred tried.

"Ah, no way. I can use it for blackmail, and I don't intend to lose it yet." He looked at the screen and started the video. "Oh, doesn't this look sweet. Arthur, I didn't know you could smile?"

Both their eyes grew wide and Arthur reached for the phone again. "Hand it over, right this instant!"

"Oh, and Alfred. You look pretty good without your glasses on."

"Oh, thanks…Hey! Gimme that!"

Another mischievous chuckle came from the French teenager and he held his phone up for the other two to see the still ongoing video of themselves in a rather intimate moment of being together. It was rather shaky, and it was rather obviously filmed from a distance with quite a zoom, but it was still very clear to see what happened.

Francis chuckled again. "I'm not-Hey!" His phone got swiftly lifted from his hand, far out of his reach. He reached back for it, but he stopped when he looked straight against Abel's sly grin and a hand was planted against his forehead. "Okay, that's about enough, Frenchie." He kept his classmate on a distance with one hand, leaning very comfortably and held the phone in the other. He took a brief look at the screen and winced before shaking his head. "Francis, you look at such dirty videos. Does your mother know that? I think it's time to delete this." He tapped the touch screen and dragged the file to the trashcan.

"Are you sure you want to do that?" Francis asked. "I've got some nice blackmail about you too, my friend."

Abel smiled grimly. "Don't worry. They know."

"Ah, _merde_."

Abel put up a clearly fake grin and permanently deleted the video. He then threw the phone back to Francis, who darted away immediately before he could get into any more trouble.

"We know what?" Alfred asked, a little confused and not at all getting what Francis had just tried to use for blackmail.

Abel looked back at him, quite sarcastically. "Nothing."

"Seriously. What?"

"Not important." He was starting to get impatient.

"Why would you help us out anyway?" Alfred asked, not quite getting Abel's motive.

"Ugh. You're welcome. Someone asked really nicely if I could help you guys out of this one."

"Who asked?"

"You can thank me later, Al." Matthew said from right behind him and then immediately walked away again, rolling his eyes. His brother could be just a little too ungrateful at times. He wondered what would have happened if he hadn't texted Alfred. Would they have been caught if they hadn't been interrupted by Alfred's annoying text tune?

It didn't matter. The teachers were still none the wiser and the week was only just getting started. Surely something like this wouldn't happen again.

~o~o~

Translations:

Mon copain = My friend

Merde = Shit

So now you've seen some of Abel's thoughts too. Nice, eh?

**Please leave me a review, dear reader. They make me happy~. **


	8. Chapter 8

**WARNING for major historical inaccuracy. I am not responsible for any eye-bleeds or severe brain damage caused by the following chapter. Please refrain from burning your computer.**

~o~o~o~

Later on in the Jardin des Tuileries, the class had lunch together. During this time, the class was free to do as they liked and hang around.

Trouillefou tried to no avail to get people to talk about the art they had seen in Orsay, but just decided to give up after the billionth failed attempt.  
While Trouillefou, Anderson and Knox where keeping an eye on the group from under a tree, Bennett practically skipped amongst the students and had a little chat here and there. Contact with the students and knowing what was going on in the group was important in her opinion. She had found that out the hard way in her first year of being a teacher, as well as the homeroom teacher of this same class.

The garden was quite impressive and quite large, so whether people decided to spend their break time in the big group or somewhere far away from them to have some quiet time for themselves, it was possible.

Abel lit a cigarette to get his daily dose of nicotine and used it to distract himself from Matthew's teasing about what had happened in Orsay. Had he just put his pride and love for annoying the holy hell out of Arthur aside just for…"Damn you and your puppy eyes."

Matthew chuckled. "Uhm, I'm sorry?"  
"If it weren't for your puppy eyes Al and Arthur would've been chasing the Trio around the garden right now. Would be funny."

"And ruining the week for a few more people? Really, if the Trio knows, the teachers will find out soon enough too."

"Yeah, true. They're not called the Bad Touch Trio for nothing."

"You would've done it anyway."

"Says who?"

"I do."

"What makes you think I would help them out? I'm in for some good schadenfreude anytime. Especially when it's Arthur."

"Because you're kind."

Abel stopped dead in his tracks and looked straight to the side at Matthew. He didn't look very amused.

"Wha-?" Just when Matthew started to wonder what the matter was, Abel blew out a big and long string of smoke, straight into his face.

Matthew coughed and waved the stench away from his face. "What was that for?"

"You're really weird."

"What?"

"What makes you think I am only remotely kind?"

Matthew had to think on that one. "Actually, I have no idea."

Abel glared, but his stern look broke into a hidden smile at the joyful expression on Matthew's face. He looked away before that annoying urge to hug him would become too much and shook his head.

"What is it?" Matthew asked, none the wiser of what Abel was thinking, as usual.

"You're doing the eyes again."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are."

"Usually, that only works on my mom."

"Are you comparing me to your mum now?"

"Uhm, noooo?" The answer was rather a question, which earned him a good hair ruffling. "It's not the puppy eyes. It's just that you're still doing stuff for me whenever I ask after what happened in first year."

"First year was hell."

"True. And you haven't even seen that first…incident."

"Nope. I was glad to be elsewhere, if the stories I heard are true."

"They are, believe me. Nearly everyone got involved in one way or another. Oh, and did I mention the attempted eye-poking and the blood on the walls?"

"Yeah, I got that bit. Yuck. Getting the holy hell kicked out of me once was worse enough for me. Most of you guys went through that twice." He sighed.  
Back in first year, everyone in the class had all been so different. As little twelve-year-old boys and girls, they were all but close. Even before that year had started, there had been tensions between some students. It was only to be expected that they'd be at each other's throats one moment or another. And it happened.

After the first time of having been kicking each other around the school grounds, a few rules had been enforced by the headmaster himself to make sure it would not happen again. Ever.

Sadly, the set of rules ended up having hardly any effect on some students, and being rather tough on others. Too tough. Gilbert was one of those, together with his younger brother.

When Gilbert finally snapped after a few weeks of too much restriction and Francis constantly pestering him and Ludwig, the class was divided in a matter of minutes. It wasn't surprising that Francis was one of the first on to get a fist in the face.

Seeing that happen made others join in and soon, everyone was involved. Again.

Even Tino, who had intended to stay away but had been dragged into it by Ivan's manipulative nature.

Even Abel, who just happened to be in the way when Ludwig wanted to punch Arthur.

If it hadn't been for Bash warning Mrs Bennett, who had no idea about it all, they all would have fought until reaching exhaustion.

After being dragged apart by several teachers, the tired, battered and ashamed students were left in Bennett's classroom to find a solution. A good one, this time.

Now, years after that, they still had that event in the back of their heads and decided never to do that again. Ever.  
Some people who had just happened to help each other as well as some of the major fighters had become best friends, and stuck together since. Somehow.

"I keep wondering if we'd be this much of a close bunch if we had been forced to talk it out sooner. Say…before people got hurt." Matthew thought out loud for a little. "Punching people isn't as much fun as it might look in the movies."

"I'll just take your word for it. You looked like you were enjoying yourself, though." Abel responded, remembering how Matthew was the one who rammed Ludwig into a wall just in time before he got stomped on the head. "Ludwig would've kicked my teeth out if it weren't for you. Let's just say I'm rather grateful I've still got my teeth."

Matthew laughed at the dryness of the comment. Even though it really was that way – Ludwig easily could have done some serious damage – Abel managed to bring it as though he was talking about a comic book. "I don't know if what I did to him was any better. He had a concussion after that, remember? Bennett brought him to a doctor half conscious."

"Yeah, true. Not surprising seeing the fact you body checked him into a wall." Abel took a last drag from his cigarette and then threw it away. "But you didn't break any of his bones and there was no permanent damage, so you're good."

"Oh, yes. That's really making it better."

Abel just grinned. "Don't worry about it. He's a great guy. Then Gilbert. He was still about a head taller than we all were back then. I just can't forget that image of you kicking him in the nuts. That looked so fucking painful."

"Language." Matthew scolded.

"What?"

"Mind it."

"Yes, _muuum_." Abel nagged.

"Cool it, ladies." Gilbert said from right behind them.

"Look who's talking, Gilbo." Abel said teasingly. "You're the one got himself castrated."

"Hey, hey, hey! That was a long time ago. And that kick was blocked by my awesome fü-"

"Your awesome _fünf meter_? We've heard quite enough of that, shrimpy."

"Shrimpy-?! Hey, hey. You jealous of the awesome or something?"

"You wish. I've got no reason to."

"How would you know? You've never seen-"

"It's surprising how open you are about some things when you're drunk. It's amazing."

"Whu-?"

"Five centimetres would be more accurate." Abel said, grinning sadistically.

Gilbert's eyes narrowed. "How did you know that, little perv?"

Abel grinned. "So it's true."

A glare was the only response before the two burst into a verbal fight about the size and importance of manhood.

Matthew pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. Okay, so the level of conversation was once again sinking deep into the ground. Not very surprising. Whenever Gilbert was involved, things would get out of hand. Always.

And with the level of testosterone still rising, the level of conversation sank, and sank, and sank, until they started flipping each other off to illustrate the assumed size of the other's male parts.

"Yeah, here." Gilbert said, and stuck up his middle finger.

"Hm, funny. Yours would be about this." He stuck up the same finger, but only with the first knuckle joint extended.

And that was where Matthew thought things were going too far to be funny. "Guys! That's about enough cockfighting for today." He said. The two were quiet instantly and looked at Matthew.

"Funny you said cockfighting because-ouch!" Gilbert got cut off by Abel's hand hard to the back of his white-haired head.  
Maybe a little harder than he had intended. Or maybe not.

~o~o~o~

Yes, boys will be boys. Yes, this always happens when you put Gilbert and Abel together. No, I don't hate Gilbert, he's just easy to poke fun at. Can I still put this on T, or should I change it to M? O_o

I'm sorry I made you go through this. I hope it wasn't too crappy or confusing. I did my best to make it clear enough to read, but I'm still only a noob here!

**Please leave a review for me again. I love them.**


	9. Chapter 9

Thank you, dear readers for all the new reviews, favourites and alerts! I will try my very best to improve and keep this story interesting. I hope this turned out acceptable.

~o~o~

After leaving the gardens, Trouillefou took the class for a sightseeing trip around the city. They passed a bridge full of padlocks, the Pont de l'Alma and the flame of Liberty, and numerous old and impressive buildings until dinner, and then went back to the hotel.

Thanks to such a perfectly relaxed day, Abel woke up contently the following morning. There had been no incidents such as stolen covers, annoying roommates or unexpected cuddling that night, and also no other events that could have disturbed his night rest.  
Lovely. Just lovely.  
When he contently stretched his shoulders and looked to his right, expecting to see a still peacefully sleeping Matthew, he was hit in the face by an awkward surprise. Instead of his friend, he saw the nightstand with Matthew's glasses on it. A questioning expression crawled onto his face when one question floated to the surface of his mind: 'Wasn't I on the other side of this bed when we went to sleep?'  
"Wow!" When the message finally computed, he sat up quickly, startled by his own thoughts. He slapped his forehead and gritted his teeth. Well, things couldn't get any more awkward now.

Soon enough, Matthew woke up as well. He stretched out and moaned very softly. "Good morn-" It also took him a while to notice he was on the wrong side of the bed. A few scenarios of what could have happened formed in his mind, which made up for a slightly uneasy feeling as well. Had they…how had this happened? He didn't even want to know. He just hoped he had been sleepwalking, even though it was very unlikely. It had to be sleepwalking! "Ow. This is a bit…disturbing."

"Let's…keep this to ourselves, shall we?" Abel tried.

"Good idea." Matthew agreed, still awkward. It was completely silent for a few seconds. "Abel? Could you give me my glasses, please?"

"Oh, sure." Abel picked up the frame, and after a moment of hesitating decided this would be a good moment to 'see the world through Matthews's eyes', so to say. That, and joking around would break the awkwardness a little. Hopefully. "Hm. Let me see what you're seeing right now." He said and put the glasses on. It took him a while to adjust, but it still was horrible. Everything he saw was blurred and double. "Man, I'm seeing double. Wow, Matty, you're freaking cross-eyed!" Abel said, blinking and squinting. He hadn't expected Matthew's eyes to be _that_ bad. Near-blindness seemed appropriate to describe the quality of his vision.

Matthew, having only blurry sight and a reduced depth perception without his glasses, pouted. "Hey! Only slightly!" He was grateful his eyesight was rubbish, otherwise he would have seen how good Abel looked with glasses even more clearly than he already had. 'Focus', he told himself. 'Don't think about how adorably dorky he looks right now.'

"Ah, dang it." Abel complained, taking off the glasses and rubbing his eyes. "You're blind as a bat."

Matthew tried to steal his glasses back from Abel's grip, but the latter snatched them away just in time.

"Hey! Give that back." Matthew reached for his glasses, but Abel kept them perfectly out of range. Abel sniggered teasingly, finding Matthew's struggling rather…amusing. And perhaps even a tiny bit cute. He had his doubts about that last thought, but who even cared? As long as he didn't speak his thoughts, there was no problem.

Matthew sat up on his knees to reach further, but Abel just moved his hand away a bit further.

"Hey! Not fair!" Matthew complained. After quite a bit of struggling, he ended up straddling Abel's leg, resting one hand against the wall and using the other to grab Abel's wrist. The result: a very awkward position in which Abel had a first-rank view on Matthew's neck and collarbone.

"Okay, you win." The taller one admitted and handed Matthew his glasses.

"Thank you." Matthew placed the frame where it belonged, leaning back again. He and Abel meekly looked each other in the eyes for a brief moment.

Okay, so the plan to break the awkward tension had ultimately failed and only made it worse. Just great.

Innocently, Mathew observed the green eyes in front of him. A small shimmer ran through them as a warning right before Abel pinched Matthew's waist, making him yelp like a little girl. He pouted and blew the always sticking-up strand of hair out of his face. "Not funny."

"It was a nice way of saying: 'Would you please get all that weight off my leg?'" Abel said with a friendly smile.

"What do you mean, 'all that weight'?" Matthew asked, and hopped up and down a few times before moving over. "I'm not _that_ heavy."

"Oh, really?" Abel asked, and shamelessly poked Matthew's waist again. Another yelp escaped the shorter one.

"Hey, that was actually kind of soft." Abel grinned mischievously and stuck out his tongue.

"Then what have you got there, eh?" Matthew asked, pinching Abel. He tried to aim for his waist and he would have reached his target if Abel hadn't tried to avoid the hand. Instead, Matthew pinched something rather hard, on the side of his classmate's body. Matthew pulled a weird expression. "Ehhh. What was that?"

Abel rolled his eyes. "That was my hip. There's a _bone_ there, just so you know." He knocked on the side of his hip that was clearly visible.

"I knew that, but why does it stick out?" Matthew asked, really not used to this body type. He had never actually noticed Abel's bones being that visible. But that wasn't the main thing he was looking at right now. The softly outlined abs formed a great source of distraction which seemed to automatically attract all his attention, until he reminded himself to look away.

Abel looked jokingly unamused. "That's because I'm not a little pudgy-pudge like you."

"Hey!"

"I mean…just…" Abel looked away as if he was trying his best to suppress a blush. He took a quick glance at Matthew. He actually was kind of…cute wasn't the right word. Beautiful, perhaps? "Eh, nothing. Never mind."

"Oh."

Another awkward silence fell, making both teenagers feel uneasy.

"You're just…squishy."

"What, squishy?!"

"Have you ever poked yourself?" He poked Matthew's cheek.

Matthew pouted. Just when he was about to say something again, Trouillefou knocked their door. "Guys. Time to wake up!"

"Sure. We'll be right there." Abel said, surely more than just a little annoyed.

They quickly got dressed and yet another day in Paris was about to start. And this day would certainly have a cheerful start!

Not.

Visiting a graveyard wasn't exactly most people's idea of a nice trip, but Trouillefou assured them Père Lachaise was well worth it. It wasn't just any graveyard after all. It was the biggest one in Paris and a lot of things had happened there throughout history.

The class divided into four smaller groups that all went their own way on the graveyard. This way, they wouldn't be so noisy and it was a lot easier to move through the sometimes narrow paths. The place was surprisingly calm. It wasn't as gloomy as some feared it would be. Despite of all the tombstones, tombs and skulls, it wasn't at all spooky to walk there. It was more like a small village, but then for dead people.

It was sort of calming even. It was quiet, there was a lot of green, and most graves were beautifully decorated.

The place brought some interesting facts about people to the surface. Things no one would ever have guessed. It was to be expected that Roderich would take a moment to admire the grave of Frédéric Chopin, but that Felicja of all people would join him in that was a complete surprise. Even her friends didn't even try to hide their surprise and sort of forced her into admitting she liked to listen to Chopin's nocturnes whenever she needed to get herself together or think.

Since Matthew had more important things on his mind than dead people, he caught up to Francis."Hey, Francis."

"Ah, Matthew."

They followed the rest of the group through the green, moist paths. There wasn't anyone else in their group who spoke French, not even Mr. Knox, so this was the perfect moment to have a little more private conversation. "Francis, what do you think is up with Al?"

"What do you mean?"

"He's ignoring me more than usual. It's annoying. He has been texting Arthur since we were divided in groups."

Francis chuckled, trying to find the words. "Well, in short: he has a boyfriend."

"Yeah, I know." Matthew looked straight ahead of him and took a deep breath. Francis put a hand on his shoulder and tried to make eye contact. "Are you jealous, _Mathieu_?"

"What, no!"

"Really? Are you sure there isn't someone in this class you'd really want to watch a wonderful sunset with?" Francis nudged.

"Francis, didn't you have a girlfriend?"

"Yes, why?"

"Then why are you flirting with…well…anything that moves?"

Francis laughed at that. This was the first time anyone actually noticed he was subtly flirting with them. Maybe Matthew was more observant than he thought. "I like to make other people, especially the shy ones, such as yourself, feel wanted and loved." He smiled warmly and tilted his head lightly.

Matthew looked away and back nervously. "Uhm, could you then please stop doing that around me? I mean, I really appreciate the intention, but it is sort of…really awkward."

"Okay, sure." Francis' tone immediately changed back to a normal one. He also removed his hand from Matthew's shoulder and made the distance between them a little more appropriate. "Now tell me what's going on in your head."

Matthew sighed and put his hands in his pockets. "I was just…wondering about something. How can you see the difference between flirting and just normal…being friendly?" He paused. "Purely hypothetical of course!"

Francis smiled visibly at that. Immediately that rare mature, caring smile lay all over his features again. "Ah, that. There are many different ways to see that in many different people. You can look at how much eye contact they make, the way they smile and intentionally avoid and capture your eyes, but with someone as antisocial as Abel, you can assume that any form of physical contact that isn't a punch in the face is flirting."

"How did you even know-" Matthew panicked more than just a little.

Francis however, laughed. "I think you need new glasses, my friend." He flicked Matthew's nose, still laughing.

"Okay, so what do you think Abel thinks about me?"

"You're kidding, right?"

"Eh, no."

"He's got it bad for you, alright. Have you met him?" He stopped chuckling when he noticed Matthew wasn't joking as much as he thought and looked away a bit questioning. "What did he do to make you ask this anyway?"

Matthew was slightly hesitant to share the memory, but decided to say it anyway. It was a bit more embarrassing when putting it into words than at the moment itself. It was as though he just now realised what had happened. But he could trust Francis, right? "He just sort of…tickles me. When we're alone in the hotel. A lot. And it's pretty nice."

Suddenly, Francis had his signature smirk again. "You like having his hands all over you, don't you?" He asked in a sly tone.

Matthew was lost at words again. He was very, very glad that no one near them understood a word of what they were talking about, but it somehow felt like everyone had gotten what Francis had said last. "No! Not that! It's just fun to-ehm." He interrupted himself.

"To what?" Francis asked, a little smug knowing that he had just cornered Matthew with his own words.

"To, ehm. Nothing. You know what I mean."

"Oh, come on. You can't fool me, _Mathieu_. You know you enjoy it."

Francis was getting too blunt now to Matthew's liking. When he put it like that, it sounded so perverted, and then enjoying being tickled suddenly lost the innocent meaning it had always had in Matthew's mind. Oh, great.

But what to do now? How would he let this little secret see daylight? Suddenly, a hundred ideas of how to tell Abel he liked him flashed into his mind, but all of them were dismissed just as quickly. It wasn't as though they were in some Hollywood chick-flick. Things just weren't that easy in real life. That, and he knew for sure his natural shyness wouldn't help much either. Being socially awkward was never an advantage. He would certainly need to cross a few of his own borders if he wanted- What did he even want? Did he want Abel to be his boyfriend? The thought of having Abel as his boyfriend was both scary and exciting. It seemed so surreal on the one hand, but on the other, the door was open.

…If Francis was right in the first place. Everyone knew he liked to use his classmates as his personal chess-pieces when he was bored.

* * *

On a completely different part of the graveyard, there was a group led by Mr Trouillefou wondering around the paths. Abel didn't really care about the dead people there. He didn't know most of them, except for Morrison. He knew that one, thanks to his father. The Doors, good music but the rest of the family didn't appreciate it.

Right next to him, someone sighed. It took him a few seconds of wondering to get the idea that he might have had to look down to see the source. It appeared to be Tino. "Hey, Tino. What's up?"

"I was just trying to find Berwald, but he's been avoiding me."

"Reason?"

"I rambled about how scary he is and he was right behind me."

"Ouch."

"Yup. He switched rooms with Aleksander immediately after it happened. I really have to apologise now, but I think he either wants to do me a favour and stay far out of my way, or he's plotting something to kill me with Ivan."

"Nah, don't think so. Something really weird has to happen before Berwald wants anyone who isn't Mathias dead. Especially you."

"What do you mean, especially me?"

"He's had a major crush on you since third year. You didn't know?" Abel answered as casually as ever.

"What?! No! How was I supposed to know that?! He shows as much emotion as Kristen Steward!"  
Abel snorted. "Ah. Figures. It's fairly obvious, though. I'll try to catch him for you if I see him."

"Thanks." Tino said.

"You've never seen him dead drunk, have you?"

"Have you?"

"Yeah. He's basically…the same. But he talks. Who knows, if you catch him, get him dead drunk and talk it out. Just don't give him so much he has forgotten the entire conversation the morning after. Waking up in bed with him probably isn't going to help you either."

"Geez, thanks. That's really going to help." Tino whined.

Abel took a long drag from his cigarette and blew out a thin string of smoke for five constructive seconds. He patted Tino on the shoulder so hard he almost knocked his classmate over. "Cheer up. I'm just joking around."

Tino sighed in defeat. "You're lucky, you know. With Matthew."

Abel nearly choked on the last drag of his cigarette and his eyes grew the size of saucers. "Whu-what? You're kidding, right? How exactly have I got Matthew?"

Tino seemed quite surprised at that. "Are you sure? You two seemed so close!"

"You must've seen it wrong."

"I don't think so. All the girls, including Judithe, are talking about it."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. You two seemed pretty close this morning."

Abel seemed to have lost his words for the first time in his life. What exactly was it they were apparently all talking about? Could it possibly be that Mathias or Judithe had been telling it around the class? They were the only people he had ever told, but he knew they would never tell anyone. Was he that obvious?

As though he as given a cue, Mathias dropped into the conversation. "Ey, guys. What's with that depression-cloud above your heads?"

"What do you think?" Tino answered.

"If it's still about that stuff with Berwald: I just found him. Aleksander is keeping him in a chat right over there, so I'd hurry if I were you. He's not much of a talker."

Tino's eyes instantly shot wide open and he darted off, shouting a quick 'thanks' to Mathias.

The Dane chuckled and shook his head before focussing on Abel again. "So, that's the standard depression with extra hopelessness deluxe for you today, too uh?"

"Yeah."

"Figures. Sucks."

"Yeah."

"I've been there, man." Mathias said with quite a dose of pity in his voice.

"Really? How'd that end?"

Mathias smiled awkwardly. "Eh, heh…Let's not talk about that right now."

Wow. Just fucking great.

And this was where Mathias thought it was time to change the subject. "Hey, speaking of queens," He started, earning a glare for this clumsy association to introduce a new subject. "Do you know which one is older, Sonja or Paola?"

"What? Why do you need to know that?"

"I may or may not have sort of made a bet with Aleksander."

Abel sighed. Mathias was an idiot, and he'd probably lose. "Queen Sonja is older. By about two months."

"Shit!" Mathias shouted. "That just cost me ten Euros!"

Abel sniggered. "I don't even want to know how that bet even started. Still, Liz is older by far." This little comment earned him an elbow in the ribs. Not by Mathias, but by Arthur. The shorter Brit was right beside him and looked, as usual, not amused. "Do not ever call her _Liz_ again." He sneered.

"Hello to you too, Arth. And why wouldn't I?"

"You don't call Queen Beatrix _Bea_ either, do you?"

Abel chuckled. "Actually, I do." He paused so he wouldn't laugh about Arthur's irritated expression. "Or Trix." He added with a wide grin, knowing the reaction he would get.

Arthur visibly twitched at this, which was exactly the reaction Abel and Mathias liked to see. Especially Abel. Joking around with Arthur always managed to cheer him up whenever he needed it. Or didn't need it, but just couldn't resist the temptation of annoying Arthur to no end. It was so easy. One comment about either Queen Elizabeth, or Scotland being a more awesome country than England, and Arthur's blood would boil.  
It was just too easy.

~o~o~

**ATTENTION**: I think I'll have to explain who Felicja is. Basically…she's Feliks. I have a reason to do this and NO, it's NOT randomly genderbending. I have got a few interesting head-canons, which includes me seeing Feliks as a transgender girl (Male to Female). I don't know why, but it seemed to fit the character.  
[**POLL** on my profile page] I may or may not write another School AU with Feliks (later Felicja) as the main character.

**Please leave a review for me. **

PS.: Yes, we really call her Bea. ^_^


	10. Chapter 10

Hello there, dear readers! Thank you for sticking with this up to now and the sweet reviews!

There's a nice little** [POLL]** on my profile page, begging you to vote it. You can also tell me in a review if you don't have an account. Thank you in advance.

~o~o~o~

Later on as they gathered at the gates of the graveyard and went to Versailles, Matthew wondered whether or not what Francis had told him was true. He hoped it was.

If it was, the things they had done up until now – the hair-ruffling, the tickling, the joking around, every look they had exchanged – basically everything got a different meaning. It suddenly became a bit awkward to remember. It made all kinds of questions float into Matthew's head: How was he supposed to act around Abel from now on? It wasn't as though anything had changed, but he was sure he'd become awkward. He knew himself well enough to know that would happen.  
Matthew told himself to act the same a usual, but that didn't work from the first second. He looked around, locked eyes with Abel unexpectedly and quickly looked away again.  
Damn, why couldn't Francis just have left him oblivious? This was going to be difficult.

After Versailles, which took a little longer than expected with all its grandeur, it took the class a long time again to find a restaurant. It was dark by the time they finally left the place again, which had not quite been the planning either. The initial plan had been to go back to the hotel, but Trouillefou had a plan B up his sleeve. Unfortunately. He turned around and led them to the river.  
It appeared they'd make a tour on the Seine. Great.  
The weather was soft. There was no wind, and the temperature was comfortable. There were pairs of chairs by at the sides of the ship to provide a most beautiful view over the river and the brightly lit bridges.

Of course Alfred insisted on sitting next to Arthur. This was something the Brit pretended not to like in the least bit, but he really did appreciate. When he was sure no one was looking, he'd even take Alfred's hand and lean against his shoulder.

Slightly envious was the perfect way to describe how Matthew was feeling since quite the opposite of his brother's situation, was his own.  
Himself and Abel, side by side, entirely silent for the entire time. None of them spoke a word at the lack of something to say or the slightest idea how to act. Neither moved a muscle or made a sound. They felt each other's presence burning by their side, but neither did or said anything.  
The fact it was dark outside and the riversides and city were a romantic sea of light wasn't helping either.  
While Matthew had told himself nothing had changed for as far Abel was concerned, he couldn't help but notice the other wasn't saying a word either. Did he know?

Later on in their room, not many more words were spoken. Matthew was still feeling unsure about what exactly was going on in Abel's head. He was never sure what was going on in the guy's head.

By now, Abel also noticed there was a different sort of tension between them than usual. The uncomfortable sort of tension. That kind of tension that came from bother sides, though he couldn't quite put his finger on what exactly was going on. Maybe it was that Matthew seemed to be even more quiet than usual, or that he hadn't made any eye contact since they had been to Père Lachaise, or that he seemed to be thinking all the time. Or maybe all of them?

Even when they both went to bed, not a word was spoken. Matthew was, though restlessly, asleep almost immediately. Thinking and worrying so much had tired him out.

While Matthew was already far away in his dreams, Abel was still staring at the ceiling. With a hand behind his head, and one leg pulled up to make his position as comfortable as possible, he scanned through his many thoughts.

What had happened at Père Lachaise? What had changed? Okay, granted, maybe he had crossed a few lines himself that morning. Even though it hadn't been entirely his fault they ended up the way they had, he should have thought it over a little better. Not everyone appreciated being tickled or poked in the baby fat.

Any now and then, he looked to his side to see if Matthew hadn't woken up in the meantime. He hadn't. He was very much asleep. And, damn, was he handsome. The moonlight that came through the curtains cast him in mysterious shadows and defined his soft features.

Abel could slap himself for even thinking it, but he really wanted to snuggle up close to Matthew right now and hold him for the rest of the night. To have his arms around that solid torso, and his fingers in that thick wavy hair.  
But he knew he couldn't do that. He had to keep is own wants involving Matthew to himself if he didn't want to ruin the great friendship with his classmate. That would certainly happen if Matthew would ever find out.

Okay, Matthew was a sympathetic guy, but there were a few things anyone would freak out about. But that was no problem. He would never have to find out. Abel was absolutely positive that he could easily live with not telling Matthew anything about the rather annoying feelings he was developing.

A few soft mumbles from his side drew Abel's attention back to his sleeping classmate. Matthew shifted, turned and ended up in a for him very comfortable position with his forehead against Abel's shoulder and his hand in a fist on his arm.

Abel looked at him.  
Big mistake. He bit his lip and blew off some steam. Oh, who was he trying to kid? He could feel his self restraint fading away more and more with every second up to the point it physically hurt. It was pretty damn frustrating to be so close to Matthew, heck, to have him snuggling up to him, and yet being so far away.

He stroked a strand of Matthew's half-long hair out of his face and behind his ear. He whispered, more to himself than to Matthew, how much of a kind, sympathetic, amazing, sweet, adorable, oblivious, huggable little thing he was. That he had no idea of the heart-meltdown he could cause without even trying.

For a moment, Abel considered holding his hand, falling asleep and accepting the consequences (those probably being a punch in the gut and a black eye) the next morning, but he dismissed the thought. It was just wrong to make a move when the other had no chance of responding in any way.

…

What Matthew was doing didn't count since the lad didn't even realise it himself. The first time it happened, Abel had thought it was hilarious, but now he cursed Matthew's unconventional shifting in his sleep. However much he appreciated any sort of attention from Matthew, having him unknowingly snuggle in his sleep had quite a bit of an awkward charge. The guy should have taken his teddy bear with him, no matter how embarrassing it may be. Would have saved a lot of…_this_!

Sweet goodness, why had he agreed to switch rooms in the first place? Right now, even sharing a room with Arthur would be like a relaxing spa in heaven compared to this. He should have known his self-restraint would be tested as much as he could cope and just a little more. He should have known, but he hadn't. He had just blindly agreed in a moment of rash acting when the only thing that came up in his mind was 'yes, I'll get to spend more time with Matthew!' and now it was time to face the obvious consequences he had initially overlooked.

He shook his head to tell himself to just get it out of his mind. This was never going to happen.

~o~o~o~

FRUSTRATION-block.

So this was more of a thoughts-chapter. It is quite an experiment, so I hope it turned out acceptable.

**Please leave a review on this piece of awkwardness and frustration!**


	11. Chapter 11

Hey guys! Thank you again for the bunch of nice reviews! Yes, the life of a teenager can be so tough.

~o~o~o~

After a rather restless night for both of them, Matthew woke up to the sound of distant arguing. A man and a woman were arguing down below on the street exactly underneath their open window, and they didn't seem to be aware of anyone hearing them. It was a rather private argument, Matthew quickly picked up.  
It seemed Abel's sleep was also disturbed by the couple as he grunted and slipped out of bed. Within a few seconds and without saying a word to Matthew, he was in his clothes and occupying the bathroom to slick his hair back up again. He seemed rather irritated. _Still_ seemed rather irritated.  
When Abel rushed out of the room, he nearly bumped into Trouillefou but passed him quickly.

"Ah. I see you two are already awake." The teacher said, and went downstairs as well. He gave the tall teenager a questioning look but let it slide for now.

Matthew sighed, quickly dressed up and darted out of the room as well. Apparently, things wouldn't fix themselves as they always did. As Matthew had hoped they'd do again.

On the stairs, he nearly ran into Mathias. "Wow, watch it! Hey, another thundercloud." The energetic Dane said when he looked at Matthew. "You two had a little domestic?"  
"No. Excuse me." He tried to shoulder passed Mathias, but he was grabbed by the arm before he had even taken a step.  
"Hey, Matthew. Seriously. Did anything happen?"  
"No." He wrenched his arm out of Mathias hand, which was quite easy and went downstairs.

Mathias watched him walk away just when Ludwig, who had overheard the conversation, came downstairs too. "Lover's quarrel?"  
"Seems like it. Damn, Abel's an idiot with the boys."  
"Look who's talking."

At breakfast, Matthew and Abel were as far away from each other as the room would allow them. Both had other friends as well.

Francis knew right away something was off. When Matthew was down, it was the easiest thing you saw. It was just impossible to miss…if you noticed the lad in the first place. He never did anything to attract attention. One glance at Abel was enough to tell him that he was the problem. Not surprising, but not the reaction Francis had hoped for.

Even on the way to Centre Pompidou, Matthew and Abel were nowhere near each other.  
Abel lit another cigarette and took a long drag. It calmed his troubled mind a little. It always did whenever he was worried about something.

Judithe left her chit-chatting group of friends to keep him company. This was one of the moments it was an advantage they both spoke a language no one else in their class understood a word of. She wasn't anywhere near stupid; she could see that whatever was troubling her little brother, it was very personal and had something to do with Matthew. "Abel. Spill it."  
"Things are awkward for no reason." He blew out another cloud of smoke and took a new drag.  
"Your fault?"  
"Afraid so. I may or may not have crossed a few lines."  
Judithe showed as much disappointment as he felt. "And Francis was so sure. _I_ was so sure."  
"Maybe Beardface lost his skills."  
"Could be." Judithe looked up. "And get that damn thing out of your face."  
"Huh?"  
Within a split second, she snatched the cigarette from his lips and stamped on it much harder than she had to.  
"Hey!"  
"Would you just stop doing that? I don't like to see you killing yourself." Judithe hissed.  
"Tsk. You're exaggerating as always."  
"I'm not exaggerating. It doesn't make you look cool and I don't think Matthew is particularly fond of it either otherwise it would be a lot easier for you to get him."

Ouch.

"Shut up." He sneered with a sharp glare. What did she have to do with that anyway? She should just mind her own business and let him do as he wanted.  
She took a deep breath and calmed down. "Never mind." She went up ahead and left her younger brother behind.

Abel knew perfectly well whether snapping at someone was justified or he just lashed out because someone had said something spot on. This was one of those moments. He caught up with Judithe and put an arm around her shoulder. He pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. "I'm sorry, _zusje_. You were right."  
"It's okay, _broerke van me_."  
He waited a moment and took a second to shove his pride aside. "Okay. I'm lost. Can you please tell me what to do?"  
Judithe smiled. "You're a guy, and you don't understand guys?"  
"Do you understand girls?"  
"Not in the slightest. Okay, point taken. I hope you realise that you're the problem here?"  
"Hey." He glared. "How am I the problem? _I_ didn't suddenly stop talking."  
"Yes, you did. Now. Why don't you stop being a complete ice-queen and get on talking?"  
"You're the second person to call me a queen this school trip." Abel deadpanned, glaring icicles at his sister.  
"It's true."  
"Hm. Yeah." He admitted.

* * *

Even though Centre Pompidou had basically everything, Matthew was still bored. He aimlessly dragged himself around a gallery with all kinds of modern art. Some of it made sense, some did not in any way, whatsoever.  
In front of one of the artworks, three white canvasses in a row, he stopped. There were two people in front of it, sitting on the floor. At least they were enjoying it. They saw extensive landscapes; he only saw a white surface.

He read an information-board on the wall that explained the idea behind abstract art. That to understand abstract expressionism, one had to forget about what they expected to see and open the mind like the artists had done when they made it.

Sure.

He was back in the entrance hall, unlike a few students other students, which, as usual, annoyed Trouillefou terribly. They waited for ten minutes, and twenty minutes, and then Trouillefou had enough of it. He went to the Info desk and seconds later, there was an announcement over the intercom if all students of Hetalia International College would be so kind to go to the entrance hall because their class was waiting. After five minutes, there was still no sign of the four. Trouillefou rolled his eyes and grabbed the intercom microphone himself. "Antonio, Gilbert, Francis and Mathias! You four jackasses better drag your lazy ass to the entrance hall right now before I drag you here by your ridiculous hair!" He barked over the intercom.

Everyone in the entire building stopped dead in their tracks with the shivers up and down their spines. Seconds after the announcement, they all burst into laughter at the four students that ran to the entrance hall as though their pants were on fire. The four arrived in record time, and first got a good scolding in front of the entire class for being extremely late.

Without further ado, they went to Musée Rodin. It was mainly a big garden with all kinds of statues everywhere, but Matthew didn't care in the slightest. He needed some time to think and the benches in the sun made it very tempting to sit down and enjoy the warm French weather.

A thought hit his mind like a small bubble. What if he only saw what he expected to see? Like with the paintings, everyone saw everything a different way. Thinking about what Francis had told him, the difference between Francis' and his own observations suddenly made a lot more sense. He had always been in everyone's shadow, especially Alfred's. Of course he didn't expect anyone to like him more than any other random person. It had become standard over the years.  
Time to stop doing that, Matthew decided for himself.

* * *

As a last activity for that day, the class went to another famous building: The Eiffel Tower.  
The line into the Tower proceeded slowly. As Trouillefou had predicted, it was really crowded. This was to be expected, but for some the number of people per square meter still came as a surprise.

The class somehow managed to make it through to the first floor. When they were all counted, Trouillefou went to buy tickets for the next floor. In the meantime, they were allowed to look around on the first floor. Of course after hearing this, every single one of the students rushed to the sides to look out over Paris from there.

Alfred was one of the first ones there. He looked down through the mazes at the people walking below, laughing. "Woah! They're tiny!" He shouted in excitement. "That's so awesome!"  
"Oh, keep it down, Alfred." Arthur hissed right next to him. "You're behaving like a child."  
"Aww. But it's funny! I mean, look! They're like, ants!"  
Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, hiding his gradually more failing attempt to hide a smile.

The view from the tower was beautiful. As it gradually got darker, more and more lights compensated the darkness. It was clear weather, so the view reached far. Very far.

It was already half dark already when Trouillefou called them together again. "Okay, you guys. I got all of you tickets for the second floor. You can join the queue after getting a ticket from me. Everyone gets one, so no pushing, pulling or jumping the queue. Understood?"  
"Yes sir!"  
"That also goes for you, Gilbert!" The French teacher added.  
"Yeah, yeah."

One by one, the teenagers got their tickets and joined the queue. As well as the last one, also this proceeded very slowly. Abel, mildly irritated with boredom looked out over the rest of his class. He was the last one in the queue, and the sight of the long sea of people was slightly depressing. It did give him a nice view over all of his classmates, so it wasn't long until he noticed there was one missing. "Hey, Al. Where's Matthew?" He asked.  
"Erm, who? Oh, Matt. He was here a second ago, and now he's…"  
"There." Arthur added, pointing.

Indeed, in the middle of the crowd behind them was Matthew, getting yelled at by two tourists who apparently weren't too happy that he was jumping the queue. Of course they didn't know that he should actually be with that large group in front of them. It wasn't in his nature either to speak up or be rude, so he got completely mowed over by the two rather snappy young ladies.

"I'll go fetch him." Abel said. With Judithe's and Francis' advice, and nothing to lose anyway, he pushed back through the group of people to Matthew.

"Hey, Matty. There you are." He said from right behind his classmate, startling him and quieting the two tourists. "Trouillefou gets pissed if he loses anyone from the _class_." He made sure to subtly emphasize that. "Come on and leave those stick-up-the-butts for what they are."  
"Hey!" One of the two young women shouted. "Where are your manners? Do you even know who you're talking to?"

Ah, English. English, posh and arrogant. Those were easy to annoy. Abel smiled friendly and made sure to answer in a very polite and official tone. "I couldn't give less of a shit. Come on, Matthew." He put an arm around his classmate's shoulder and they went back to their class again.  
"Hey, wait you! We're not done yet!"  
"We are, in fact."  
"No, we are not! Come back here-!"  
"Laterz!" Abel shouted over his shoulder with a smug grin that would only come across as at least twice as arrogant as they were.

Matthew didn't quite know what to think about the arm around his shoulder or what the two tourists now thought their relationship was. For now he'd just pretend there was nothing unusual going on. He was just relieved that Abel was finally talking to him again. And not just a simple one-word greeting either.

"You okay, Matty?"  
"Yeah, I'm fine. They were scary." He said in a quite light tone.  
"Yes, they were. And so is Trouillefou when we explain that that one ticket he had left is yours."  
"Ow." Yes, Trouillefou wouldn't be too happy if he found out one of his students had gotten behind.  
Abel smiled. "Come on." He guided him through the group to the teacher. Luckily getting through a crowd of classmates was a billion times easier than passing a few grumpy tourists from all over the world.

"They seem to get along." Arthur observed, crossing his arms.  
"Yeah." Alfred said, not looking to happy. "I hope that stoner keeps his hands off my bro."  
"I'm quite sure he's not nearly as handsy as you are." Arthur responded.  
"What do you mean?"  
"How many times have I asked you to keep an appropriate distance as long as we are in public?" Arthur deadpanned.  
That small reminder was enough to make Alfred realise where his hand was: On Arthur's hip.

* * *

Once the class reached the top floor, it was entirely dark. Something else everyone immediately noticed was that it was significantly colder due to the wind.  
But once they saw the view, they all agreed it was entirely worth it. The view reached over all of Paris, which was now a sea of small lights against a black background. Absolutely breath-taking.  
"Wow." Matthew said, smiling as he looked out over the huge city down below. His violet eyes lit up and shimmered.  
"Awesome, isn't it?" Abel asked, leaning on the handrail next to Matthew.  
"Yes, it is." He said dreamily. Matthew took a quick glance at Abel, but looked entirely away when a warm electric pulse shot up through his spine, slightly colouring his cheeks. He gripped the handrail a bit tighter, hoping Abel wouldn't notice.  
He did, but that was nothing Matthew needed to know. He was cute.

"This is totally super awesome, yo!" Alfred shouted, promptly planting himself against the handrail between his brother and Abel, completely oblivious to the warm mood he had just mercilessly shattered to tiny bits.

Of course, the two were all but amused by this loud and obnoxious interruption. Especially Matthew, who had always been the victim of his brother's bluntness one way or another. This time, he really had enough of it. This was the worst time for Alfred to drop in he could possibly have thought of. Matthew gathered all courage he had and put his hand on Alfred's shoulder. "Al. You're annoying. Get out of my way."

"Eh?" Alfred asked with a blank stare before he was pushed aside, having him almost trip over his own feet. The shyer one of the twins then picked up where he had left, pretending Alfred hadn't dropped in at all.

"Woah. What the hell? Did Matt just…?" Alfred wondered. He had never expected Matthew to be able to push him aside like that. Up until now, he had always won in any kinds of physical fights! How had this just happened?

Arthur crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. "It seems like you were interrupting." He smiled.  
"Butbutbutbut…" Alfred stammered.  
"Come on, Al. What's the matter?"  
"Pointy hair?!" Alfred shouted. "Why the heck pointy hair?! He looks like a fricken' porcupine! I swear, Matt has no taste."  
Arthur was a bit startled for a moment. He sighed and slapped his forehead. "And that's what's bothering you? Really, Alfred. You're impossible."  
"Butbutbutbut-"  
"Oh, shut up, Alfred." Arthur sneered and dragged him away by his hand to the other side of the top floor.

Matthew saw them disappear around the corner and smiled. He wouldn't be bothered by his brother again this night. Arthur would make sure of that.

Now that he didn't need to worry about that anymore, Matthew fully set his mind on the person next to him. It was worth a try to let him know something. But how? He couldn't just tell him like that.  
Francis always said one shouldn't tell, but show, but he was quite sure he could not do that. To be sure, he just dismissed the thought.

The two made a trip over the top floor, making sure to enjoy the view over the city from every side of the tower and trying to find places they had seen or were going to see. They found the Sacre Cœur, their hotel, the Arc de Triomphe, the Nouveau Arc, and various other things.

"Matthew." Abel said from behind him.  
"Huh?" He looked around over his shoulder, completely unaware of what would happen. The next thing he saw was the dimmed flashlight of a camera and Abel grinning.  
"Did you just take a picture of me?"  
"No, I stole your soul. Now let me see…" He checked how the picture had turned out.

Beautifully.

It was perfectly Matthew. Shoulder length wavy hair, big friendly violet eyes looking half over and half through a pair of glasses and a genuinely questioning expression. No fake smiles or planned poses, just Matthew as he was.  
"Can I see?" Matthew asked, instantly reminding Abel that he was staring at the picture on his camera.  
"Sure."  
Matthew shook his head when he saw the image. "Oh, gosh. Please delete that."  
"Why?"  
"It's awful!"  
"Nah."  
"I always look terrible in pictures."  
"You don't in this one. Quite the opposite." He quickly hoped Matthew hadn't heard that second comment.  
"Do you need my glasses again? I think you're nearly blind as well."  
"I think you are."

Matthew was about to respond to that again when he suddenly realised Abel had just called him…beautiful? Nah. He just forgot about it and simply gave in to the teasing.

"I'll keep this one." Abel grinned widely and put the camera away again.

Time passed by in record time when having fun. The visit to the Eiffel Tower was no exception, Matthew noticed as they had to make their way back to the souvenir shop on the first floor much to early to his liking.

Trouillefou told them that they could choose how they would get downstairs: by the elevator, or taking the stairs. Strangely enough, no one went for that last option.

Until Abel, however, did. "I'll take the stairs." He said with a grin.  
"Are you crazy?" Matthew asked.  
"Yes. Come on. Just for fun."  
"No way." There was something about the way he said the word 'fun'. Something evil.  
"What's wrong, Matty? Scared of a few stairs?" He tried to provoke Matthew a little with his decision.  
"I'm not scared. I just think you're not quite right in the head for taking the stairs when you can take the elevator."  
"So you're afraid you won't keep up with me?"  
That hit a spot. "Not unless you decide to jump all the way down."  
"Who's the first one down?"  
"You bet!" What was wrong with him? Where had he gotten this confidence? And what was he getting himself into?

Minutes later, he found himself running down brightly lit, metal stairs, chasing loudly laughing after Abel. Their feet clanged loudly on the metal and their laughs resounded through the caged staircases. The people they passed gave them strange but amused looks, but they didn't care. This was just hysterical.

Abel cheered when the last staircase was in sight, and Matthew sprinted quickly after him, passed him and he would be the first one.  
He would have been first if Abel hadn't jumped the last five steps. They had their feet on solid ground again at the exact same time.  
The two of them laughed loudly, and were one of the first few to drop themselves into a chair in the bus that would take them back to the hotel. Only Mr Knox, who had a fear of heights, was there, so they were actually quicker than their lazy classmates!

Matthew laughed and panted at the same time. "That was the craziest thing I have ever done!"  
Abel panted as well. "You ram people into walls."  
"That's only on the ice and it's not just me."

They looked at each other silently and burst into laughter again as they waited for their classmates to arrive as well.

~o~o~o~

Sorry, I couldn't resist the so much hated 'Who?'. It is just inevitable. I am sorry Matthew!  
Yes, I gave Matthew a slight inferiority complex. It's nothing too bad.

Translations:

Zusje = Little sister

Broerke van me = Little brother of mine. (I'm not too sure about this one. I've seen many people spell it like this, but if there are any professional Belgians out there, please feel free to correct me. ;) Thanks!)

**Anyway, please review my dearest readers. I read them all.**


	12. Chapter 12

WARNING: Very questionable chapter.

~o~o~o~

That evening, after the visit to the Eiffel Tower, Matthew and Abel gladly dropped onto their bed with painful limbs. Next time, they'd think before taking the stairs. Definitely.

"Pffft! I feel like a piece of spaghetti, I'm exhausted!" Abel complained.

Matthew chuckled. "It almost feels like we ran down a bunch of stairs."

The two laughed again. "Yeah. Almost."

"328 steps. Wow. Quite a killer." Matthew had to admit.

"Why do you even remember that?"

"I wanted to know what I got myself into, but I still don't quite know."

"But it was fun."

"Yes, it was." Matthew had to admit.

With a content smile, Abel allowed a short memory flash through his head. He put the thought aside quickly and hopped up. "I'm off for a shower." He immediately went to the bathroom and not even a minute later, Matthew heard the water rush on the other side of the wall.

With a relaxed and satisfied sigh, he folded his hands behind his head and stared at the ceiling. He tried closing his eyes for a brief moment to get a little rest from a long day. Just when he thought it was entirely quiet, he heard some noises from the hotel room next to theirs. From Alfred and Arthur's room came some evident laughing and sniggering. While Alfred's laugh was extremely obnoxious, Arthur's laugh was downright funny. But that was just Matthew's personal opinion. He hoped for the other two that their opinions on that were different.

As time went on, the laughs got more and more mixed with other sounds. Matthew instantly wondered what it was, but he immediately regretted listening better.  
The things he heard were…disturbing, to say at least. Small giggles, pants, yelps, sighs and other things he didn't exactly want to hear. They were soft, but definitely not his imagination. The worst thing to add up to this already disturbing information was that it was in fact his brother who was partially the source.

Matthew's expression was one of disgust and disbelieve. Was he really hearing what he thought he was hearing?  
He wished it wasn't. He knew he was right, but he still wished he wasn't. "Alfred." He whined softly. "There are a few things about you I don't need to know." He pulled his knees up to his chest, and sat on his bed with his ears covered. He wanted to pinch the bridge of his nose, but that would mean removing his hands from his ears and not blocking out the sounds anymore. It wasn't like he could knock on their door and ask them if they could please be a little more quiet. No. Matthew wasn't suicidal enough to do that.

He sat like that for a few minutes until Abel got out of the bathroom. His hair down, still dripping a little and he only wore his pyjama trousers, as usual, a little too low on his slender hips. This was nothing out of the ordinary, but to Matthew it was another unexpected slap to the face.  
He immediately looked away again, afraid of his eyes popping out at the sight.

Upon spotting a severely disturbed Matthew, Abel instantly got wondering. "Matt? What's wro- What the fuck am I hearing?" He wondered, though he was starting to figure out the answer.

Matthew looked up, still looking disturbed. "Yes, exactly that."

"Yeah, that's what I thought." Abel replied. "That's disgusting."

"Thanks, Captain State-the-obvious." Matthew said. He kept looking up at Abel, waiting for him to come up with something.

Abel didn't know either. Even he had no idea how to handle a situation like that. Who would be prepared for a situation like this?!

"Okay, now I've got enough of it." Abel decided. He flung the door open, stomped onto the corridor and loudly rammed on Alfred and Arthur's door. "Hey! Keep it down in there, you couple of sluts! I don't want to hear how you two are screwing each other up the ass!"

"Go do what you're good at and mind your own bloody busyness!" Arthur shouted back, not really sounding like he took the warning seriously.

"Would you two perverts just shut up?"

"Go fuck yourself, Abel!" Alfred shouted, severely irritated.

Abel rolled his eyes. Too. Easy. "No thanks, I've got Matthew for that." He shouted back with a sadistic grin.

"Ew! Fuck the hell off! And keep your hands off my bro!" Alfred screamed.

Still as disturbed as before, Abel went back to his room. "Sorry, Matt. It seems like they're not in the mood to listen. They're completely ignoring me."  
Abel dropped onto his bed as well. He crossed his arms behind his head and tried to ignore the still on-going, disturbing sounds. "Well, anything they can do, we can do too."

Matthew's eyes grew wide as dinner plates behind his glasses. "Eh? 'scuse me? What?!"

"Huh?" Abel blankly looked at Matthew, repeating the former conversation in his head. Just then he got the tiny miscommunication. He jumped up and gave Matthew a pillow to the face. "I didn't mean _that_! Yuck!"

Matthew struggled slightly, but that was soon over when Abel repeatedly pinched his waist. Still as ticklish as ever, Matthew yelped.  
"Get your mind out of the gutter! Geez Matty!" Abel said, half laughing as well while Matthew was still squirming and yelping on his lap.

When he stopped his playful assault, Matthew took his time to catch his breath again.

"I meant, _Matthew_." Abel started, trying to stop his chuckle as Matthew giggled as well. "We can just completely ignore them."

Matthew cleared his throat and pointed at the wall behind him. "Uh, ignore? That's my _brother_ on the other side of that wall, and Arthur is moaning like a slut." Matthew was momentarily startled by his own choice of words.

"Pfff. Ahahaha!" Abel snorted, planted a pillow in his face and dropped onto his back, weak with laughter.

Matthew just sat petrified in his sitting position, hugging a pillow. "You get my point?"

"Yeah, I get it." Abel said, muffled by a pillow. "Aaah! That's gross."

"Yes, it is. There are a few things about my brother I don't need to know, and this in one of them." He couldn't remember ever being so talkative. Where was this even coming from?

"Yeah. By the way, how long has he had that major ass crush on Arthur?"

"I don't know. About a year, I guess? Wait. How did you even know that?"

"Open book. With gigantic letters and spoken text for those with severe dyslexia or impaired vision." Abel sighed. He sat up again and flung the pillow to the side. Leaning back on his elbows in a comfortable position, he looked out the window at the bit of sky that could be seen above Paris.

While he tried his very best to ignore the still ongoing obnoxious sounds, Matthew had his mind completely elsewhere. When the muffled noise from the other room eventually faded away and died out, he half-subconsciously constantly looked at Abel, whose chest was on full display. His soft orange pyjama trousers were slouched low on his hips. Low enough to show quite toned abs and bones, but not low enough to show anything inappropriate.

Gorgeous.

He had smoothly outlined muscles and quite broad shoulders. Despite this, he was still quite skinny. Not extremely so, but enough to make every muscle he had quite prominent and his limbs seem long. But maybe that was just because he was rather tall. And above all: He looked very, very handsome from this angle.

When he realised he was staring, Matthew forced his eyes to look the other way. Unfortunately, they found their way back just as easily, and Matthew was once again staring at his tall classmate. His usually serious expression softened a little in the orange sunlight. That, those sideburns and the scar on his forehead somehow made him even more attractive than he already was.

Once again, Matthew averted his eyes, but didn't keep this up for longer than two seconds.

When no word was spoken for a minute, Matthew's mind started wondering off, playing games with the images of his observations and sending quick, split-second long images into his head.

_Their fingers slowly intertwining._

_His hands in that wild hair._

Matthew gasped inwardly when he realised what he was thinking about. Staring was bad enough, but this was definitely going too far. But his mind had more in store for him.

_Those lips pressing a kiss to his cheek._

'Stop.' Matthew told his mind, but it was to no avail. Just seconds later, he imagined how it would feel to have those arms around his waist. Or…

His mental images were abruptly ended by Abel's voice. He had noticed Matthew looking in his direction and grinned teasingly. "Like what you see?" He asked jokingly.

Oops. Matthew's blood suddenly ran cold in his veins and the rosy colour on his cheeks drained away within a second. The one thing Matthew could think of now was fleeing the room. He tried to sound calm and casual, but the sudden feeling of being busted had sent a rush of adrenaline into his veins. "Hm. I…think I'm gonna take a shower." He tried to sound as calm as possible, but his head was racing.

He jumped up, grabbed his stuff and rushed into the bathroom. When he shut the lock, he leaned back against the door and sighed.  
That was embarrassing. Matthew decided to take a long shower and not come out until he was sure Abel was asleep. He had to avoid another situation like that.

When he entered the room again nearly an hour later, he found Abel already asleep, only half under the covers. Matthew couldn't blame him; it was really warm, even at night and even with the window wide open.

Matthew admired the peacefully sleeping teenager and smiled. Abel had his back turned towards him. That gorgeous broad back that slimmed in one smooth line into a slim waist.  
'No. Stop. Bad Matthew.' He thought to himself. 'You're hanging around with Francis too much.'  
He shook his head to get rid of the thoughts.

But he looked so peaceful, and so appealing. Matthew sat down on the side of his bed, his mind hopping back and forth between 'yes' and 'no' on a certain thought.

'Yes' won.

He doubted at first but eventually leaned closer to his classmate than he had ever been. "Good night, Abel." He whispered, stroking his cheek with the back of his fingers. He leaned in and softly kissed his cheek.

He had wanted to do that for so long now. It didn't matter Abel was already asleep and would probably never know about this little moment. He had done it now. Finally.  
Kissing him goodnight. It was such a silly little thing, but Matthew had wanted to do it for a long time.

Still a little flustered, Matthew smiled and snuggled into the blankets, blissfully unaware that Abel wasn't asleep at all. That he had kept still all the time since Matthew had come out of the bathroom. That even when the tips Matthew's wet hair dripped small pearls of water onto his neck, even when Matthew's fingers slid over his cheek, and even when he felt the soft lips so tenderly on his cheek, he had kept perfectly still and enjoyed every single second of that short moment.

Smiling, Abel carefully placed his fingertips on the place he had just been kissed. He got his many fluttering thoughts back on the track again and went to sleep as well. This would be a thing for tomorrow. For now, he'd manage to get through the night with just this on his mind.

That Matthew. Such a sweet little thing. It was hard to resist the urge to jump up and cheer with joy.  
'No', Abel told himself. Tomorrow would be soon enough for that.

* * *

Maybe even more confident and happy than ever, Abel went downstairs the following morning. The thought of telling Matthew he had been awake last night was very tempting, and would most likely give an adorable and hilarious reaction from Matthew, but he kept it to himself. For now.

Abel and Matthew were almost the first ones downstairs. They were right after the teachers and Arthur while the others were having the greatest deal of trouble getting out of bed.

Abel detected a small detail about Arthur's behaviour. He didn't know exactly what it was, but it was certain Arthur wasn't moving in his usual way. He seemed a little more cautious, as though he was trying too hard to pretend nothing unusual had happened. With a mischievous smirk, Abel leaned over to Matthew. "Hey, Matt. Remember what we heard last night?" He whispered.

"Yes, thanks for bringing back this mind-burning memory."

At that very moment, Alfred also entered the room. He didn't seem all to pleased. Irritated even. Matthew guessed that had something to do with the rather unwanted interruption from last night and the conversation he had just overheard.

His presumption was confirmed when Alfred immediately went to the source of said unwanted interruption. "Hey, Abel. Could you please stay out of it next time? You're one hell of a cock-block."

"Not enough, it seems." He deadpanned.

"Yeah true. Just for your information, we weren't 'screwing each other up there'. We only-"  
"Al!" Matthew interrupted just in time. "Inappropriate!"

~o~o~o~

Wow. This is exactly why I shouldn't write when my mind is all the way down in the deepest pit of the gutter. x_x  
Then you get perverted stuff like this. For your information: Yes, Alfred and Arthur really were doing some…naughty things I cannot describe in detail if I want to keep this fanfiction up here.

To ThatOneGingerKid: THIS. IS. **UST**! (Sorry, couldn't resist. XD)

To Aphrodi: See? I told you cockblock would occur. *evil grin*


	13. Chapter 13

Wow. I never thought you guys would like the previous chapter so much! XD Thank you for the very amusing reviews.

~o~o~o~

The first thing they went to was yet another impressive building: The Dome des Invalides. After a visit to the Musée de l'Armée, which gave more than half the class goose bumps, the shivers and the heebie-jeebies, they went to see Napoleon's burial site. There was a big hole in the floor where they could look down on the grave on the floor below. All around it were pillars and huge statues, which made the coffin itself look a bit small.

Once they were further down in the actual tomb, the coffin suddenly seemed a lot larger. The statues that surrounded the coffin suddenly were a lot more intimidating as well. This was the moment Arthur took out his phone to take a few pictures. Just a few. He quickly took them and was just about to put his phone away when Alfred found him again.

"Dude, why do you have a phone box on your phone?" He asked, pointing at the small blue pendant that hung on Arthur's mobile phone.

His boyfriend glanced at him over his shoulder. "It's the TARDIS."

"The wud?"

"Time and Relative Dimension in Space. Ugh, don't you watch Doctor Who?"

"Doctor what?"

"No, Who."

"Who?"

"Yes."

"What?"

"Stop it." Arthur snapped. "Okay, that is one thing I have to teach you as soon as we get back home."

"You're a bit of a nerd, you know that?"

A grim and sadistic grin crawled onto Arthur's features. He put his phone away, turned around at Alfred with a friendly smile, but evil eyes. "Alfred, sweetheart. Let me tell you about the Weeping Angels." He said, chuckling beneath his breath and a dark shadow crawling over his poisonous green eyes.

* * *

Wondering around the place was Judithe. When she found her brother, she tapped him on the shoulder. "Abel? Do you know what's going on with Berwald? I'm a bit worried about him."

"Huh, what?"

"Well, I heard from Elizabetha that Felicja heard from Toris that Tino told Eduard they had a fight." She rattled.

Abel scratched behind his ear, trying to grasp the gossip-grid Judithe had just explained. "Okay, what?! I'm not a girl, so I don't get a fuck out of that. Say that again without the gossip-web in between."

Judithe sighed and huffed. "I heard Tino and Berwald had a fight, and the latter is being semi-suicidal."

"Ah, that's clear language. No. Haven't got the faintest. You Matty?"

"No, sorry."

She rolled her eyes. "Thanks. Very helpful." She walked away immediately.

"Okay then." Abel said. "That was weird."

"I thought Berwald usually walks away from fights and doesn't care."

"He's had a huge crush on Tino for a few years now, so this is a little different from 'usually'." Abel said, softer and quicker than usual.

"Oh. That's painful. Man, I feel sorry for him."

"Yeah, me too. But I'm not really an expert on 'love-troubles', as Judithe calls it, so there's nothing much I can do."

That's where Matthew saw a small gap. "So you've never had a girlfriend?"

Abel snorted. "No."

What was that chuckle for? It wasn't a strange question, and it probably wouldn't have been a good idea to ask if he had ever had a boyfriend. Come on. That would have been downright stupid.

"Something up, Matty?"

"Could you please stop calling me that? And there's nothing."

"Yes, there is something."

"No, nothing."

"Yes, there is."

He sighed. "Okay, fine. I thought it was a bit rude to laugh at a question I asked."

"Sorry, Matty. I just had a little inside-joke with myself."

"Suuure."

"It's nothing you want to know. Really." He ruffled Matthew's hair, earning a glare from behind a pair of glasses.

"What if I do want to-"

"Maaaatt!" Alfred shouted and clung to his brother's arm like a little monkey. Matthew didn't get to finish his sentence anymore. "Dude. All those statues could be alive! When you look away, they're very fast and they'll kill you and if you look into their eyes they'll get into your head and-"

Matthew couldn't get himself to speak. Alfred's rambling sounded like one long word and he couldn't make the slightest sense out of it. He didn't even know what was happening. "Al! What?" The urge to shout 'what the HELL are you on about?!' got bigger every second as Alfred rambled on.

"-and they can crawl out of pictures and into your head through your eye and kill you and-" A smack to the head by Abel brought him back to his senses a little.

Matthew really didn't have the slightest idea of what Alfred was rambling about, and it made no sense whatsoever. "Al, what the heck was that about?!"

That moment, he spotted Arthur behind them, sniggering sadistically. "I'm sorry, Matthew. I am afraid that's my fault. I let myself go a little with Doctor Who monsters."

"No more Doctor Who for you, Al." Matthew scolded, to which Arthur pouted.

"But I was only just getting started." He protested jokingly.

"Keep it to yourself, please, Arthur. I don't want to suffer from insomnia for six months again because of him waking up screaming at least five times a night."

"Okay, just for you, Matthew." Arthur promised before breaking Alfred off his brother's arm and dragging him along, patting his head and rubbing his shoulder. Of course Arthur himself was hardly able to hold back his laughter.

"He's enjoying this, that little sadist." Abel noticed.

"It was about time someone would come out and break Al's guts for once."

Abel stared at Matthew with big eyes for a moment. "And I thought you were cute."

"Sorry, what did you say?"

"Nothing. Nothing at all."

* * *

La Défense, many quickly noticed, was especially a trip to please the few girls the class had. They all went shopping and left most of the guys behind. Although a few male classmates were as much titled shopaholics, their number was insignificant. Four to be exact.

Most guys opted for staying somewhere and relax with a good drink and some nice company.  
They went back near the end of the day to have dinner in a French restaurant not too far away from the Eiffel Tower.

The place had a warm and welcoming atmosphere but seemed professional at the same time. Upon entering the building and being spotted, the owner, a man in his mid-fifties with black hair with silver streaks and a beard of at least two weeks, seemingly jumped from his spot behind the bar and rushed to Trouillefou with a broad smile and spread arms. "György! How long has it been?" He asked and embraced his old friend tightly.

A few students sniggered. György? That was his name? György?

Trouillefou now showed a completely different side of himself, which was quite scary. He seemed kind and warm-hearted and he was…smiling? "Too long. How have you been the last fifteen years?"

"Well, look around you, my friend. And what's with the bunch of kids?"

"I'm a teacher at an international school now."

"Just what you dreamt of when you were still a little squirt. So where's that school, in France?"

"No, Belgium. Brussels, to be exact."

"Oh, nice, nice. Hey, why don't you guys take a seat upstairs here and I'll give you a group discount and drinks and wine are on the house. How about that?"

And so, the students and teachers were seated on the second floor only minutes later. It was an open floor, so they were looking out over the other people in the restaurant down below. Quite a fun sight. The tables were set in small groups, with the biggest one in the middle. It was quite a large group too and with Romano, Alfred, Mathias and Gilbert as part of the company, it wasn't hard to figure out where the most Decibels would be produced.

Matthew had made a better choice not to join his brother and instead hang around his own friends. Tino, Carlos, Berwald and Abel were great company. That, and they had very amusing entertainment. At the large table behind them, a discussion was about to get started on food. Of course Francis insisted that the French cuisine was superior to anything, while Romano and Feliciano were both convinced their mother could beat any French chef any time when it came to cooking.

"What the hell are you eating?" Romano asked Francis, disapproval in his tone as usual.  
"It's _Ris de veau_. Want to try some? It's really good." Francis responded.

"The fuck is that?"

"It's calf's pancreas." Antonio cleared up, to which Romano gave the same reaction as everyone else at the table.

"Aaaah! Fuck! That's fucking disgusting! How the hell can you eat that?!"  
"Dude, ew!"  
"_Bäh_! The hell, Fran?"  
"Ah, _lort_. I'm gonna heave."

"What?!" Francis asked. "You don't need to shout. There's nothing wrong with this."

"There's something wrong with you for eating that!" Romano shouted.

That wasn't the only disagreement between the two. Francis insisted that French wine was the best in the world. And that was the start of a disaster.

"Yeah, right, fucker." Romano said. "French stuff is shit. Italian wines are the best."  
"You wish. Nothing is better than Spanish wine."

"Oh, no. You are both wrong, my friends. We are in France right now, and this is the perfect opportunity to teach you how good French wine is." After looking at the card for a long time, he ordered a bottle for their table. Everyone got their glass filled. It was France, so trying wine was a part of cultural education.

The fact _everyone_ at the table had decided to have a drink worried their classmates a little.

"Oh, crap." Carlos said.

"What is it?" Tino asked.

The Cuban pointed at the larger table. "Kiku and alcohol? I've heard some stories about that…"

"Yeah, he's a bad drinker, all right." Abel said. "Two swigs and he's out cold. Or worse."

"Gilbert isn't much better." Berwald added, but he seemed a little cautious, and looked at everyone but Tino.

"No, true. Not that Mathias is a blessing to be around when he's drunk. The shit he starts spewing is even over the top for porn movies."

"He's never a blessing to be around."

Tino thought they were exaggerating. "Come on, they won't get drunk of only one glass."

"Kiku does." Abel said, leaning back and still watching the scene.

"What exactly does he do when he's drunk?" Carlos asked.

Berwald and Abel looked at each other, sighed and apparently shared the feeling of dread at the memory. Abel decided to explain. "One glass is enough to get him stripping on the table and give you a rather unwanted lap dance. And for the sick fucks here who _are_ into that sort of thing, I'll have to disappoint you as well because he doesn't have sexy legs." He and Berwald both cringed.

"Let's just hope he goes out cold then." Carlos said, a little afraid of what would happen if the other option would occur.

For a moment it seemed as though the guys would be having a near-serious conversation about wine, but it was spoiled by Gilbert. "I don't even know how you can drink this junk in the first place. It's shit." He ordered a beer, German of course, and left his wine where it was: in the glass.

While the other guys at the table didn't bother to even follow the conversation, Francis, Feliciano, Antonio and Romano did actually seem to be having a discussion about wine. Although the others really did show at least some appreciation, Romano still wasn't convinced. This, of course, was an excuse for Francis to order another bottle of another wine. To convince his friend, of course.

After the second bottle was emptied, and the ritual was about to be repeated for a third time, Matthew excused himself from the table. He went immediately to Alfred as he could already see this escalating. Everyone knew he couldn't control himself if he wanted to. "Al. I think you've had enough for tonight."

"Ah, come on, Matt." He said, grinning. "I've only had two glasses. What damage will that do?"

"You've got no alcohol tolerance whatsoever, so I'd stop now if I were you." He said with his arms crossed and looking unimpressed.

Alfred however, also seemed unimpressed and just turned back to the table, ready to ignore Matthew once again. That was, until he was yanked back by his brother.  
"Al. I mean it."

Alfred gave him a cocky smirk, already giving away he had a trick up his sleeve. "Okay, okay. I will stop drinking now, if you-" he grinned and snatched his refilled glass from the table and held it in front of his brother. "drink this in one go."

"What?"

"Come on, Matt. Are you scared? I know you can't do it, so just let me, 'kay?"

Matthew, however, wasn't very impressed by Alfred's tough talk. Nor by the glass of wine.  
"Promise?" He asked.

Everyone waited in silence. No one had expected that tone from Matthew, and they wanted to see what would happen next. Even Alfred was surprised. He had hoped Matthew would have chickened out left, but he was persistent. "Sure." He eventually responded.

So Matthew rolled his eyes, snatched the glass from his brother's hand, knocked it back in one go and then slammed the empty glass back onto the table. Much to everyone's surprise, he was perfectly fine. "You're not drinking one drop of alcohol anymore tonight." He decided. And Alfred had to obey. Even though he hadn't expected this outcome in the slightest, he had to keep his promise to his twin.

Everyone looked at Matthew with wide eyes and their jaw on the floor. What happened? Had he grown a pair in the last five seconds, or what? More importantly, Matthew drank? The perfect little example drank?! He seemed completely unaffected by both his twin and the alcohol.

Conversations around the room slowly started again and Matthew sat down again, still unaffected and unimpressed.

"Hey, Matt. Are you alright?" Abel asked.

"Huh? Yeah, I am. Why?"

"You just knocked back a glass of wine in one go. That's quite a bit of booze."

"Oh. Yeah, maybe. I'm used to more than that. Alfred, on the other hand…well, he isn't and he turns into a caricature of himself when he's drunk. You don't want to be around him when that happens."

The rest of the group still couldn't believe it. This was one scary side of Matthew they had never seen before. It was easily explained though when Matthew told them he went to see ice hockey games any once in a while with his father and that, of course, just called for beer.

At the table in the middle of the room, the same ritual of Francis and Romano bickering and ending up ordering yet another bottle was done about six times. Most others had already quit by then as they _did_ know their limits. A few others didn't and would have to face a terrible headache the next morning.

By then, the rest of the class was looking at the scene in the middle of the room with great amusement. Who needed to talk when they had such great entertainment?

Kiku had fallen asleep long before that. The poor thing had tried to do as the others for the sake of not being rude, but had been lulled to sleep after one sip of his second glass. The opposite reaction was found in Gilbert and Romano. While Gilbert had only taken one tiny sip of wine, he had ordered himself a beer every time Francis let the waitress bring another bottle. The two of them were quite intoxicated and shouting more profanities than normal words in each sentence.

Ludwig, who had only had two glasses, got more and more lost in his own situation. His brother was talking and behaving like a drunken chimpanzee while Feliciano was half-asleep using his lap as a pillow.

And the sight of it all was hilarious. While Antonio, Mathias and Ludwig were only the slightest bit tipsy, and Aleksander even seemed perfectly sober despite the four glasses he had emptied, the others were more dead than alive.

By the time Trouillefou managed to tell himself it really was time to leave, it was around eleven in the evening and once again, later than he had expected. This and the few downright drunk students were a terrible pain in the neck. How they would be scolded once they were either sober or hung-over the next morning. The man told himself to calm down, breathe and wait with scolding the drunken bastards until they would be hung-over with a hell of a headache and actually sober enough to remember it.

~o~o~o~

Of course Arthur is a Whovian! If you don't know what Weeping Angels are, here's a quick summary: Weeping Angels appear to be statues, but they can move as long as they are not being seen. They can move metres in literally the blink of an eye, which is why you should never even blink when you come across one. If they catch you, they send you back in time and feed on your time-energy. Nice, eh? We all know Alfred gets scared like a little girl over such stories. ^_^

You can decide for yourself who the four male shopaholics are. ^_^

Translations:  
Bäh = Yuck, expression of disgust. It's German, so yes, that was Gilbert shouting.  
Lort = Shit in Danish.

**Please leave me a review, dear reader. **


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